Dead Girls Don't Get a Happy Ending
by G13
Summary: They survived the apocalypse for longer than most. Thrust into the past, with their knowledge of the future they can do more than survive -they can thrive. Shaping the world around them is not without consequences. The enemy is large, the odds are impossible, and you can't plan for everything; it's going to be a long road to a happy ending. Faberry Brittana Adventure/Family/Horror
1. All By Myself

Rachel sat in the backseat of their car, clutching her severed braid in her hands as she stared at it sadly.

She had always wished her hair was like either of her dads. Instead, it was mostly wavy with a tendency to get poufy.

She had been contemplating changing her look for high school next year but had yet to decide how yet; at the moment, her papa or daddy always braided her hair in the morning for her.

Everyone always laughed at her either outright or behind her back when she said she did not know who her biological father was.

Her fathers assured her that she was nearly the spitting image of their egg donor. They found it simply amazing that biology had worked out well enough that they simply could not tell which of them ended up being her biological father. They'd really lucked out that the egg donor had _very_ strong genes.

Rachel found it pretty amazing too.

"We're going to have to take her to a hairdresser and have it fixed," LeRoy sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change.

She had two loving parents, great fathers who wanted the best for her.

Rachel had never been able to lie to her dads. She _was_ able to slip half truths and simply outright not mention certain things to them.

Things such as the fact that, for the past two years of Junior High, Jill Clark had been making her life horrible at school. Rachel was counting down the days until the summer. They would be going to different high schools. And her parents had utterly _no i_ dea.

Rachel knew that her life would greatly improve without Jill Clark in it. The bullying would stop, and Rachel would be able to focus on preparing for her future on Broadway.

So Rachel had prudently decided not to burden her parents with the knowledge.

Hiram snarled, "We're pressing charges. That's _final_." He was exactly eight inches shorter than LeRoy, but his presence was such that you would not notice unless it was pointed out.

Rachel knew logically that Jill was simply jealous of Rachel.

Rachel pitied Jill, she really did.

"Now now Hiram," Papa said soothingly, "It could have been an accident. We don't want to ruin some poor girl's life just because she accidentally cut Rachel's hair."

One day, Rachel would be a Broadway starlet. Jill would still be a nobody in Lima, envious and halfheartedly attending the community college with a vague plan to transfer to a four-year eventually, which she would never actually end up doing because she'd get impregnated first.

Rachel had a _future_.

It really was Rachel's fault for _telling_ Jill exactly that, loud enough for everyone around to hear and laugh at Jill.

"Well, Rachel? Darling? Was this an accident? Did this girl somehow _accidentally_ cut off _most_ of your _hair_ ," Hiram said acidly, giving LeRoy a look before looking much more gently at his daughter.

It was not most -Rachel's hair had been rather long, and still was. Hiram sometimes exaggerated for effect.

Rachel opened her mouth to say yes. It very well _could_ have been an accident, even if Rachel _very much_ doubted it.

the

 **world**

 _ended_

She gasped, the braid falling from her hands as her body jerked forward painfully against the seat belt.

The pain of _dying_ combined with whatever was happening blinded her for a moment. It took a moment for her vision to adjust; in that moment she lived two lifetimes.

Two lifetimes that were significantly much too short.

Either she had the most magnificent psychic premonition she had _ever_ had, or somehow...somehow, the alien technology had made her time travel.

She took in a deep, slow breath and watched the cars and people around them, half in disbelief half warily.

"Darling?" Hiram asked, and she turned from the window to stare at him.

He was alive.

Both her dads were _alive_.

"Clearly LeRoy, Rachel's traumatized from the assault on her person. _We press charges,"_ Hiram hissed at LeRoy, turning to face her. "Don't worry darling, we will be home shortly."

She closed her mouth, then opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She managed to nod, and wrapped her arms around herself, unable to do more at the moment then stare at her fathers, an image of their corpses in her mind.

She finally closed her eyes, and put her forehead against the window, soaking up the sun and heat. Despite this, Hiram's half eaten corpse was still vivid and fresh in her mind.

It was reasonable to assume the others would have time traveled as well.

After zombies, then aliens, time travel was not too difficult to believe in -although, she was not quite sure she was going to write off her psychicness just yet.

Her papa, her daddy -they, and everyone that the group had lost, were _not dead_.

And Rachel was going to _ensure_ they all stayed alive, no matter who or what stood in her way.

When her Hiram realized Rachel wasn't going to speak any further, he sighed softly, then said to LeRoy, "Betty said she could fit Rachel in at four."

It took a moment for Rachel to remember who Betty was -the hairdresser who took care of all three Berry's hair needs.

LeRoy nodded, "It's about two, how about we have a late lunch, do some grocery shopping first?" He looked at her in the rear-view mirror, "Does that sound okay to you Pumpkin? Or would you rather we go home?"

"I want to be with you and Daddy, wherever you are," Rachel said after a moment of thinking about it.

What she wanted to do was go to her great grandmother's cottage, and have her rifle and ammo next to her at all times.

"Where do you want to do for lunch darling," Hiram asked her expectantly, turning from the passenger seat to look at her.

She couldn't stop staring at the neighborhood around them as they drove.

The sun -she felt like she had not properly felt the sun on her face in a very long time.

And the people -her neighbors, going about their lives without any fear.

It took her a moment to answer him -besides the distractions, she couldn't remember _when_ the Berry family had turned vegan.

All she could remember was Hiram getting the news from his doctor that his blood pressure was bad, and that, combined with the family history of heart attacks made him go vegetarian. Since he was the one who tended to cook more, they all simply followed suit -at least until someone sent Rachel a MySpace message that linked to a private video.

That, she would never forget.

It appeared, at first glance, as a fan video -which, naturally, Rachel had eaten up. They'd selected a video of her singing "Don't Rain on My Parade" which was, of course, a song that Rachel had been singing for a very _long_ time, so she had mastered it. It was one of the few songs she could watch herself sing and not find any real flaws to pick at.

She'd been utterly entranced.

Then, they'd cut in scenes from the meat industry -animals, baby animals, being treated and killed _horribly._ Rachel had watched the whole thing, then, horrified, demanded the Berry's go vegan.

Never parents to deny their daughter anything, and since they were halfway there already, LeRoy and Hiram had gone along with it.

Although sometimes Rachel had suspected LeRoy would have the occasional burger here and there.

So it took Rachel several long seconds to answer, and finally, all she managed was, "I do not have a preference Daddy, you decide please."

LeRoy suggested, "Does 'Mama Luna's' sound good Pumpkin?"

"Sure papa," Rachel shrugged.

The adults started talking quietly to themselves about work -they were _very_ successful insurance salesmen, leaving Rachel to her thoughts.

Rachel very much did not want to be alone with her thoughts.

She swallowed, determined not to think about anything.

Naturally, all she could think about was the last time the Berry family had driven through the streets of Lima -and how they were stopped.

Unable to take it anymore, Rachel closed her eyes. She needed to stop thinking about death, as difficult as that may be.

 _Quinn smiled at her, her fading pink hair mussed up around her like a halo. She was beautiful, the scar on her face doing exactly what Rachel had thought it would do. It gave her a little character, showed that Quinn was a strong warrior, and enhanced her beauty. The scar will likely always send that little message of self-doubt to Rachel that if she had the scar, she would be simply hideous with it. Although maybe it would have distracted from her nose._

 _Quinn reached over and gently ran a finger along the part of the burn scar visible on the front of Rachel's shoulder._

 _"I still can't believe how quickly your burn, everyone's burns healed," the smile had turned to a frown, and Rachel knew she was thinking about Beth._

 _Rachel gently placed her hand over Quinn's, deciding that she was not going to bring up Beth, unless Quinn brought her up first, "The alien technology is quite amazing, I hope they're able to do something helpful for us with it beyond defense."_

 _Quinn raised an eyebrow at her, a look of bemusement and resignation on her face, "How long do you think you'll be punished for getting that alien technology?"_

 _"I maintain they should be rewarding me, not punishing me."_

 _"Of course. All you did was violate direct orders and nearly get yourself and two other people killed," Quinn replied dryly. She pulled her hand off Rachel's shoulder, and out from under Rachel's hand._

 _"Granted, things went rather unexpectedly, but in the end the results were worth it."_

 _Quinn shook her head, "You can't just put yourself, and others at risk Rachel."_

 _"This world puts us at risk, Quinn. We need to do what we have to in order to survive."_

 _This was an old conversation by now._

 _Quinn sighed, "Well, you did send a girl to a crack house once..." Quinn managed a smile, and yet again this particular conversation was tabled for a time when they would have a serious discussion on the matter._

 _Rachel thought of her decision to leave a bitten Quinn behind because that was what was best for the group. It was a hard choice, but someone had to make it for the group's sake. And Rachel had quickly realized it had to be her._

She would not, no matter how many lifetimes she had, forget that feeling of needing to leave Quinn behind. At least it was distracting her from thinking about the last drive the Berry family had through Lima.

As her Papa parked, Rachel felt the anxiety rising through her.

There were too many people, people Rachel did not know, that could do anything to them because they had no way to defend themselves.

She couldn't move at the realization that the absolute last thing she wanted to at the moment was to enter the restaurant, and be around people she didn't know.

Her fingers itched for her rifle.

"What's wrong Pumpkin," LeRoy asked when he realized she had not moved to unbuckle her seat belt.

"I.." She could not find the words, did not know how to explain anything she was feeling right now to her fathers.

Hiram unwittingly came to the rescue, "Obviously she's had a long day, LeRoy, and we shouldn't have taken her anywhere but home. How about we get lunch to go, and go home until your appointment?"

She managed to nod.

"Right, I'll get everyone their usual then," LeRoy said, closing his car door softly, leaving her alone.

Rachel had to stifle her desire to run after him, to not let him out of her sight.

"I think, daddy, I could just have an appointment on Monday?" she said softly to Hiram. She just wanted to go _home._

He turned to look at her critically, then shook his head, "Darling, that girl absolutely butchered your hair. And you have an audition for 'The Sound of Music' in Columbus on Sunday. You can _not_ show up with your hair like that."

It took Rachel a moment to answer him. She did not remember this audition at all.

Rachel had tried out for community theater many many times, and ending up with exactly zero roles total. She knew one thing for certain -she did not want to waste time auditioning when she was not going to get the part. Or even if she did get the part, it did not matter in the end.

She would never be on Broadway.

All that time, that money, the sacrifices she made.

There had, in the end, been no point to it.

She had to accept that once already, had already accepted it.

So why did she feel like sobbing?

"Daddy, I think perhaps I will skip this audition, it is unlikely they will hire me anyway. Sometimes a person is just not the correct fit for a role," she said it slowly, feeling the weight of the words as she said them.

Even with everything that had happened, and the apparent second chance, they were not easy to say.

Hiram gasped, "No, no darling! You cannot give up just because one mean, nasty girl tried to knock you down. You will go to the audition, you will be amazing because that's who you are, and you will get the part of Louisa. That nasty girl will be a distant memory. "

Rachel very nearly snapped at Hiram, just managing to swallow the urge. She was only...how old was she?

She took a deep breath and thought.

She did not even know what month it was. She remembered that the Jill event having been some time in 8th grade. It seemed to be spring.

Giving that she'd entered kindergarten at the same time as her peers despite her December birthday, she was somewhat younger than the others in her classes.

That would make her...thirteen.

Which meant she'd be fourteen in December.

She was only thirteen _._

She was only thirteen, and he was her father, and no matter how lenient the Berry's were, she was still a child and they her parents.

Hiram and LeRoy had been insistent on her doing dance classes since she was old enough to be able -they would not, especially Hiram, take her stopping them and other Broadway goal oriented activities lightly.

This was not going to be the first time she was going to find herself in the role of a child doing what she was told.

"Very well daddy," she said after a moment too long. He gave her a concerned look but mercifully said no more.

She did not feel like a thirteen almost fourteen-year-old child. Even if she was feeling like her father making her audition was unjust and she was fighting the urge to both yell and cry, due to the surge of hormones.

She did not even feel like the seventeen-year-old she had been -she sat up a little straighter when she realized she had _only been seventeen._

How was that possible? It had not even been a year into the end of the world, yet they had gone through so much, done so much, watched so many die.

It felt like years; she was no longer a child but a woman. Had not been a child since that moment she tried in vain to keep her daddy from bleeding to death, so certain in her knowledge of the world, a world that until that moment had given her everything she'd ever asked for, that she did not even realize when he'd slipped away.

 _Tears in her eyes, not even noticing the blood spreading out and covering her tights and dress in blood as she kneeled down next to her daddy, Rachel put pressure on his shoulder and side. "It's okay daddy, you are going to be fine," she said clearly to her daddy, not wanting him to panic._

 _She could hear her father firing shot after shot with the rifle, cursing when he missed. Hopefully, someone else would come along, and they could get her daddy medical attention. Noah and Finn's mothers were both nurses, so if they could just get Hiram to them, he'd be fine. He had to be._

 _She couldn't bring herself to sing to him, no matter how much he enjoyed her voice, so she continued speaking soothing words to her daddy, while putting pressure on his wounds. She was acutely aware when LeRoy stopping firing and looked up at him._

 _LeRoy seemed to have aged ten years in the minutes it took him to put kill the zombies that had been coming towards them._

 _"That noise will draw them from all over," LeRoy muttered, then looked at Rachel, "How is he?" he asked, his voice low and pained._

 _"Papa he's bleeding so much, we need to get him to Mrs. Puckerman and Carole, or a hospital" Rachel looked up at her father, tears streaming down her face. She was intensely aware a large portion of her, from her legs to her wrists, were covered in her father's blood, and couldn't imagine what was going through her father's mind as he looked down at his child and partner._

 _"There are no cars, and I would think if there was any way to fix that truck they would have…" LeRoy muttered, loosely holding the gun at his side with one hand, he stomped to the pile of their belongings and shoved boxes aside till he found the one he was looking for. Opening it, he grabbed the large first aid kit, and turned towards Rachel and the prone form of his partner._

 _"Here Rachel, do what you can with..." He trailed off as he got a better look at Hiram._

 _"What is it papa?"_

 _Swallowing thickly, he said, "Rachel, check for a pulse. Then put on your hiking boots."_

 _Rachel did as her father ordered, wiping her hand on her dress first. "Papa? He's…."_

 _"Your daddy…he's gone pumpkin. We need to stay ahead of those things, we have to leave."_

 _"No, we can't, we have to do something!" Rachel was incredulous._

 _"We have to leave him. I know it's hard, but we can't stay here. He'd want us somewhere safe. Please, put on your hiking boots. Pull a pair of socks over your tights first. We'll…we'll be doing a lot of walking."_

A few tears traitorously leaked from her eyes, and she could not help it -she let out a soft sob that turned into sobbing quietly.

When Hiram realized she was sobbing, he joined her in the backseat, and held her close to him, murmuring comforting things in Hebrew as she sobbed.

Listening to his heart beat, and his soothing words, all Rachel could think about was being covered in his blood.

Finally, she was cried out. She laid there, exhausted, curled up against Hiram.

"Hiram?" She heard LeRoy ask softly after the car door was opened.

"I told her she had to go to her audition on Sunday, so she simply must get her hair fixed today," Hiram said, then sighed, "She gets that from me -and the hormones don't help, I'm sure. I do wish she'd gotten a little more of your calmness."

"Perhaps she will once those hormones settle down? She's almost fourteen, and she will be starting high school next year, that's a rough time. Maybe we should think about limiting her extracurricular activities a bit?" LeRoy suggested. Rachel could hear the general rustling noises, then the click of his seatbelt, before the car started.

"Her schedule _is_ rather full...I'm just not sure what we could cut from it," Hiram trailed off, "Piano?"

Rachel snuggled against Hiram, trying not to think about anything but the fact that they were alive. She would let them discuss which of her activities she would stop because it did not matter -Rachel was going to devote herself to learning skills that would be useful for the end of the world.

She allowed the car to lull her to a fitful sleep.

* * *

She woke up groggy, unaware of what was going on, and uncaring until she realized someone was holding her, stroking her hair.

Her heart raced, and she scrambled to pull away from them instinctively.

The seat belt stopped her, sending a jolt of pain through her.

"Rachel? Darling?"

Taking deep breaths as the adrenaline flowed, she opened her eyes and realized that it had been Hiram.

Not a zombie, or someone will ill intentions.

Just her daddy. Her living daddy who was looking at her with clear concern.

"Just...just a nightmare daddy, I hadn't realized I was dreaming..."

He frowned at her, "Perhaps we can see if Betty will do a house call darling, and you can go to bed early."

"I would prefer that daddy, thank you," he nodded at her, reaching over and opening her door.

Rachel took in deep, even breaths, trying to calm herself down as she climbed out the car.

The house, the Berry home, stood in front of her. LeRoy, carrying their lunch, was just at the front door while Hiram was still at the car.

Tears came to her eyes as she stared at the house.

"Starla!" LeRoy shouted, then sighed heavily, and called, "Rachel make sure she doesn't get into the street!"

Rachel held her breath as a black and white Pomeranian ran fairly quickly for an elderly dog with arthritis towards her.

Starla's tail was bobbing back and forth happily. Once she reached Rachel, she started jumping up and down, hitting Rachel's leg with her front paws, making little demanding grunting noises.

Rachel scooped her up.

Starla.

Rachel knew now for _sure_ she was thirteen -that was the year Starla had died.

One day, the Berry family had woken up to find their furriest member had a stroke so severe the veterinarian had recommended putting her to sleep. Starla had been eleven, and the Berry's had thought they'd have at least, given that she had the best care, doting family members, and the small dog life expectancy, another three or four years.

Starla's death had left a hole in their family that they still had not been ready to fill years later when the world ended.

Tears once more came to Rachel's eyes, and she hugged the dog, who wiggled happily in her arms.

The car door slammed shut, and Rachel turned, watching Hiram carrying her backpack, his suitcase, and LeRoy's messenger bag up the path.

Rachel was so incredibly happy to see Starla again it nearly eclipsed how she was feeling about her dads.

There was a bitter sweetness to that happiness -she would not be able to stop Starla's death.

She could, however, stop Hiram's and LeRoy's.

And she would.

* * *

She had barely managed to stand Betty being in their home, tolerating it long enough for the woman to cut her hair.

She was confident that having Starla there, being able to hold her, was the only reason she'd managed to get through the hair cut.

Even so, she had been tense the entire haircut -she absolutely did _not_ like having someone she did not know well with a sharp implement near her face.

She kept her hair longer this time, requesting that it be cut to roughly mid-chest. Mainly to get it done that much quicker, and keep their stylist away from her face.

Once the woman had left, taking Starla with her, Rachel had retired to her room.

She sat on her bed and stared up at the ceiling as she lavished attention onto her dog.

Eventually, when Starla was clearly tired out, she reached over to her neatly organized bedside table, and her Zune and headphones.

She looked through all the music, a feeling she didn't recognize going through her as she browsed. She'd settled on a classic rock playlist, and pulled the headphones on, pushing play.

Looking at the music she'd enjoyed when she was young was like pulling on a warm sweater, fresh from the dryer, on a chilly day.

Nostalgia.

That's what the feeling she was feeling.

She swallowed back tears -she was too _young_ to be feeling like a twenty-something going through the music she'd enjoyed when she was a kid.

Contrary to whatever everyone had believed, she enjoyed a wide variety of music, including classic rock and roll -which LeRoy had introduced her too.

As the first bit of "Don't stop believing" started to play, her fingers twitched with the need to take action -she had never been good at relaxation or downtime in general, and since that first day she could count the number of times she felt truly relaxed, without anything on her mind, on one hand.

She needed to be doing something.

Her laptop -a heavy, clunky thing that sat on her desk, and, she idly started at it before she realized with a start that she _could access the internet._

All the information in the world at her fingertips.

She stood up from her bed carefully -she didn't want to jostle the snoring Pomeranian and sat down at her desk chair.

There was so much she needed to know, to learn, that she was almost overwhelmed with what to look up first. Just the very fact that she can do so energized her in a way her brief nap in their vehicle did not.

It took her ten increasingly frustrated minutes to figure out what the password to her laptop was.

She tapped her fingers against her desk in agitation as first the laptop booted up, then Firefox.

While she waited, she looked around her room.

She somewhat remembered it -the details were hazy, but the room felt familiar.

After bat mitzvah, her dads had let her redo it however she wanted to, and, well, she had chosen to design the room in a "grandmother builds a room for her toddler granddaughter" aesthetic which had nicely matched her clothing preferences. She had updated it a bit more when she started high school, but not by much.

She had grown up on old movies and two dads who preferred to dress rather old fashioned. It was no wonder that she had the style she had had.

Firefox finally opened. Still undecided on what to look up first, and perhaps with a bit of nostalgia, she clicked on the saved tab that was always open on to MySpace. The slowness of the internet speed would take a frustraiting while to get used to -even if it was faster then most people had at this time, it was not as fast as she was used to.

She hadn't started doing daily videos until high school when it'd become clear to her that Glee club under Sandy was not going to give her what she needed and craved.

She only posted a video here and there before then. Now, she merely looked at the thumbnails of her videos -she did not want to hear herself sing.

It would be a fresh reminder that Broadway was gone, and so was the girl that she had been. And she had already cried enough today.

The newest video -a cover of her singing "What Goes Around...Comes Around" had quite a bit more comments then her other videos, which all had one or two.

Frowning, she clicked on it, quickly hitting pause before the singing started.

Sam Evans: Great job as usual Rachel.

Rachel Berry: You comment the same thing on every one of my videos!

Sam Evans: Because you do a great job singing Rachel. I've missed it.

Rachel Berry: ...? Well, I'm glad to have a fan! I will be certain to thank you in my first acceptance speech for always believing in me Sam Evans.

 _Sam was back as well._

Heart racing, she clicked to send him a private message. She paused at the keyboard, unsure of what to say, before finally deciding on, "Sam, I believe we have much to discuss. Please send me your phone number."

It took him two hours to reply -it was nearly seven thirty now, and she had spent the time waiting for him typing up _everything_ she could remember from today until they had died. She intended on transferring what she had written into a notebook after she was sure she had everything down, and organized to her liking.

She had decided since she had years to prepare, that she did not need to start researching and learning just yet. There would be time for that, but first, she needed to decide, exactly, _what_ she needed to learn and do.

Preparation was going to be key to survival.

When she had realized he had replied back to her, with his phone number and nothing else, she took a deep breath, then picked up her phone.

She had her own land line, for no real reason then Hiram had always wanted one when he was a boy, and they could. She would get rid of it eventually in favor of a cell phone, but for now she was glad for it to avoid having to go downstairs and have this conversation where one of her fathers might hear.

The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" A young voice that sounded familiar but not enough to place it asked.

"Um, may I speak to Sam Evans please," she said as politely as she could.

"This is he."

A flash of panic went through her -Sam hadn't sounded like this. Either she was remembering wrong, or something had changed and he was -her frantic thoughts were interrupted, "Rachel I'm going to go into my room, just a second," a few moments silence, then, "I'm sure I sound weird...puberty hasn't really done it's thing on my voice yet," he half laughed and that, at least, sounded more like him.

Rachel calmed down a little and let out a rush of air, "You sound so young."

He laughed again, "So do you. I'm almost twelve, you must be twelve or thirteen?"

"I turned thirteen in December, yes." The silence sat between them, until she added, "I just..arrived? Today."

"Since I was seven."

"Oh." She could not imagine coming back that early. "I'm so sorry Sam, that had to have been difficult...it must still be."

"Yeah, yeah it wasn't..it wasn't good for a while. But I think it'll be easier now that I know you're here too. I felt like a stalker when I finally found your MySpace, that took a while. I thought I'd remembered your last name wrong."

"My parents only let me make one when I entered eight grade..." She licked her lips, "I expect the others will be joining us as well, I can only hope before..."

"The day?" he suggested quietly.

"Yes. Before then, because it will be much more easier to prepare with them."

"How are we going to prepare? I mean, I pay a lot more attention to my granddad when he's teaching me stuff, and I read a lot but..."

"I am not sure yet, but now that we know the other is here we shall remain in contact." She felt the weight of being responsible on her shoulders, because of course there was not much Sam could do in Kentucky at the moment, and changed the subject, "Stevie must be a toddler now, and Stacy was recently born, am I correct? How are they? My fathers...they are amazing."

"I'm glad you have your dads back Rachel..." he trailed off, and was silent for a few long moments before he sighed, "Stacy's about nine months old. Sabrina's about two and half, and Stephanie is almost four."

"Sabrina? _Stephanie_?"

A terrible feeling went through her, and she closed her eyes as Sam answered, "Yeah...I well, I changed things...and...instead of Stevie and Stacy, I've got Stephanie, Sabrina, and Stacy."

"I am so so sorry Sam." To live with that guilt for the rest of his life, she could not even imagine.

"It's not...I kinda remember him, but not really? Like he's a character in a book I read a long time ago. The memories were a lot stronger when I first got here, but by the time I realized I'd changed things so that mom got pregnant with Stephanie a lot earlier then she'd gotten pregnant with Stevie, they were really faded. I wrote stuff down, but...I think a lot of that was just from being so little, but I suggest you write yours down too."

"I have started to, but I will make sure to finish," she pictured Sam reading to Stevie and Stacy. A deep feeling of sorrow went through her as she realized that she was literally the only person on the planet who truly remembered Stevie. "I am sorry, regardless."

"It's not your fault, it's not even really my fault. I was little, I was freaked out...I didn't know that by having a nightmare I'd butterfly effect Stevie out of existence," he replied wirily.

LeRoy sang out to Rachel that dinner was ready, and Rachel sighed, "I have to go eat dinner Sam...we shall keep in contact both via phone and MySpace."

"Alright, um. Well. When you know what we should be doing, call me? And if you want to talk...I know it's weird..." Sam trailed off.

"Of course. Please do the same with me if you need someone to speak to." They awkwardly said their goodbyes, and Rachel picked up Starla. Her mind was heavy with worry as she left her room and headed downstairs -it was, apparently, all too easy to change the future in ways you did not expect. Perhaps she should not, just in case, drop _all_ of her current extra curriculars?

It was definitely something for her to think about.

* * *

Hiram insisted on giving her sleeping medicine Friday night, citing her earlier nightmare in the car, and that she needed to be well rested for Saturday. She argued against it, because the thought of being so deeply asleep frightenend her. Somehow that clear fear managed to prove Hiram's point. She lost the fight.

Friday night she did not dream.

Saturday's were, apparently according to the calendar on her desk, normally spent at two dance classes, and vocal training. She managed to get out of all three, citing what had happened at school on Friday, and wanting to prepare for her audition the next day.

She spent most of the morning in her room, with her laptop and Starla finishing up typing everything she could remember.

Her father's reluctantly gave her space. They did knock on her door an awful lot to see if she needed one of them, water, or anything really.

Rachel did not mind the so long of being alone, even when surrounded by the others, it was very nice to have her dads back. Knowing that there were two people in the world who loved her more then anything was a comfort, even if the fear that they would die for her one day was present.

She finished, saved multiple copies of the document, and carried Starla downstairs.

She had held off as long as she could, but she could not take it anymore.

She needed her rifle. She needed to have a small supply of items on the off chance that she woke up tomorrow to find something terrible had happened, much earlier. She needed to be prepared.

She set Starla down on the dog's bed, gave her a pat on the head and called out to the parent lurking in the kitchen, "I am going on a bike ride."

She slung her purse on, and was buckling her bike helmet when LeRoy called out, "Call home if you go too far and need a ride home!" Their neighborhood was nice enough that LeRoy would not worry if she rode around by herself. Hiram would, but Hiram tended to worry about _everything._

She was going to ride her bike across town to her great grandmother's home.

It was roughly seven miles away across town. And she was planning on stopping at several stores which were along the way depending on the route she took.

Rachel was in excellent shape, so by the time she has ridden two and a half miles she was not particularly winded or even all that sweaty as she came to a stop in front of one of the army surplus stores in Lima.

She had selected this one because it was the biggest.

The first place she headed to was the bags, selecting a serviceable looking alice pack in black, not even trying it on -she had yet to hit her growth spurt, so was still under five feet tall. The pack was a large, it would look ridiculous on her.

Quickly, glad the store was mostly empty, she moved to look at the knifes. She wanted a large one that had multiple uses. She would keep under her pillow, and it would give her some simblence of peace of mind. She was mulling over two choices, and had finally decided on one, when the clerk, an older man noticed her looking and ambled over. "You know I can't sell one of those to you, right?"

Rachel looked up at him, "Why?"

"Gotta be eighteen. State law."

Rachel stared at him then said slowly, "Well, perhaps I'll simply buy the sheath, and the knife is included for free."

He chuckled, "Tell me what a little bitty girl like you needs with a knife like that, and I'll think about it."

She glared at him, "The end of the world. Sell it to me, and myself and mine shall buy from your store instead of your competition. Of course, money will be useless eventually."

He stared at her, then gave her a grin, "I like the cut of your jib kid. You ready to check out?" He pulled the knife she wanted out of the case and set it on the counter.

"This will be all for now, yes," Rachel set her shoulder's back, and tried to convey that she was serious.

It worked, too, because the clerk sobered, and seemed to take her much more seriously as he checked her out.

Once the knife was in her new bag, and the bag adjusted and on her shoulders, Rachel continued her ride to the cottage.

She tried not to think about anything but the sun on her face.

Not thinking about the future was easier said than done, and by the time Rachel pulled up to the cottage, panting slightly, she could not stop the over whelming feeling that nothing she did not was going to matter. She was going to fail, everyone she cared about was going to die, and she'd be alone.

She didn't bother with the kickstand, she just let the bike fall to the ground as she got off it, letting the bag slip off her shoulders as well.

She closed her eyes, feeling, despite the sun and the bike ride, cold.

With a little sob, she slid to the ground.

There was so much to do, to learn, and she had no idea when the others would be joining she and Sam.

"Did your fairy parents tell you you're adopted? Because you aren't, they bought an egg and paid a woman to carry you. They need to be more careful how they talk to you, there's a reason two men can't raise a child together. Need a woman's touch," a soft gravelly voice said.

Rachel looked up, and wiped away tears she stared up at the elderly woman who was looking down at her expectantly. She was a few shades lighter then LeRoy, and if you stood them side by side, you would realize they were related because they had the same kind, perceptive eyes. She hair was pulled back in two french braids that ended in neat buns, and she stared down at Rachel expectantly.

Rachel had quite forgotten that her great grandmother was alive and currently occupying her home.

"Miss Henrietta..." Rachel gasped out.

If she could not even remember a simple fact such as the one that Henrietta Rose Berry was still alive and kicking at this time, then how could she remember some needed vital information during an emergency?

Rachel started sobbing harder.

"Come on girl, Miss Henrietta will give you some milk and cookies. Although I'm sure your dads will be irritated they aren't all natural hippy milk and cookies," Miss Henrietta, with a surprisingly strong grip, helped Rachel stand up. Rachel allowed herself to be led into the cottage, and to Miss Henrietta's kitchen table.

She felt cried out and embarrassed by the time Miss Henrietta placed two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies on the table, then settled in the chair across from Rachel with a sigh.

"Did you start your monthly and LeRoy and the other one send you here to me because they're two men? It's been a mighty long time, but I suspect I can talk to you about that."

Rachel could not remember when she had her first period nor how her dads had handled it, just that it had not happened yet. She shook her head.

Henrietta Rose Berry, born in1919. She'd survived the Great Depression when half her siblings did not. She was one of the handful of African American nurses during WW2. She had so far outlived her husband and all but one of her children.

She loved LeRoy, he was her favorite out of her grandchildren. She tolerated Hiram. She was not one to curb her language or opinion, so her dads did not bring Rachel around her often. LeRoy took Miss Henrietta to church every Sunday, and had lunch with her.

That was all Rachel really knew about her.

"Well girl, there's a reason you rode your bike across town to see me. What is it? Have a cookie." Miss Henrietta pushed the plate towards Rachel.

Rachel tentatively picked up one of the cookies -obviously homemade, loaded with chocolate chips.

She took a bite, and it was the best cookie she had ever tasted. She was quite certain it was not just because until three days ago, homemade cookies had been a very rare treat with only just enough per person to say you had some.

"This is amazing," she mumbled through the bite. Once she'd swallowed, she took a deep breath, "May you teach me to cook? And bake? And sew? And anything else you can or want to? I know we are not close but...may I join you and Papa on Sundays?" She felt herself rambling. Miss Henrietta was Rachel's family, and, as crass as it was, she was a wealth of knowledge that would be a much better instructor then the internet or books.

Miss Henrietta pursed her lips together, "Well, I know your dads won't know any of that, being two men so I'm happy to teach you. I don't know if LeRoy and Hiram will be okay with it. They don't think _I_ am a good influence," Miss Henrietta snorted, "And I would love for you to join us on Sundays. It's about time you start looking into your father's religion."

Rachel must have had a look on her face, evident through the second cookie she was nibbling on, while taking sips of milk, so Miss Henrietta added, "I saw that woman your dads bought -even talked to her for a few minutes. Her genes are very strong, but I can see LeRoy and his momma, bless her soul, in your face. "

Rachel took a sip of her milk, then said, "Everyone always laughs at me when I say I do not know who is my biological father."

"Well, they've clearly never seen a picture of the woman who donated herself to your fathers. You know Hiram's aunt, bless her, said she saw her features and Hiram's in you too, and we ultimately decided it didn't matter who your biological father is, but some people might think it's a big deal. You'll find, Rachel, that most people are fools. And that's likely something your dad doesn't want me saying to you, but it's not going to hurt you to have some reality in that fancy singing life Hiram and LeRoy insist on, is it?"

Rachel couldn't disagree. She found her fascinated with Miss Henrietta, and sat there talking to her. Well, mostly Rachel listened.

Miss Henrietta had the neighbor give Rachel a ride home when they both realized that if they weren't already, soon her dads would be getting worried.

It made Rachel sad that she hadn't really known her great grandmother before. Her father's had tried to shelter her...they had not known that Rachel would hear worse than Miss Henrietta's dated opinions at school.

She spent the rest of the day in her room, trying to read and not think.

It somewhat worked too, and Rachel ultimately decided that her visit with Miss Henrietta had done wonders to relax and calm her nerves. Likely because there was no pressure there; Miss Henrietta would die of old age sometime soon, and there was nothing Rachel could do about it.

Rachel went to bed that night at eight, because Hiram and LeRoy insisted on an early start the next day. Hiram decided against the sleeping medicine because he didn't want to risk her being groggy, or anything for her audition. Rachel wanted to point out it wouldn't matter, but kept silent.

They had to drive to Columbus fairly early for her audition and her dads had apparently also decided they would visit a supposedly excellent singing teacher that blew her current _two_ out of the water the morning before the audition.

* * *

 _Rachel felt tears pool in her eyes, and unable to contain the sob she let out, Rachel turned away, and saw her father raise the rifle out of the corner of her eye._

 _With a sickening and very loud bang that seemed to echo through Rachel's bones, the crying mercifully stopped._

 _"We need to leave Pumpkin. I'm afraid there's nothing here for us," LeRoy said bleakly, staring at the stroller for a moment before he stepped back, and closed the supply closet door firmly._

 _Taking a few deep breaths to have control of herself once again, she nodded, and desiring to stir some hope inside them both, added, "Perhaps we will find a vehicle."_

 _"Maybe we will…" LeRoy trailed off as loud growls seemed to get louder._

 _Rachel and her father both whirled around, and Rachel could only stare in horror at the sight._

 _A dozen yoga goers, apparently alerted to their presence from the rifle fire, crowded into the hallway from the employee area, making that hallway even dimmer since their red, swollen bodies blocked off the bright light from the rest of the studio._

 _Apparently, there had been a "Mommy and Me" yoga class going on, and none of the women had heard about what was happening. None of the slings or baby backpacks on any of the walking corpses held a baby, just a gore covered mess on torn straps._

 _Rachel felt the bile rise up in her throat, as once more tears pooled in her eyes. Those poor poor babies, they never had a chance._

 _"Rachel, stay calm pumpkin, we have to run. We'll be alright." LeRoy muttered, a note of hysteria in his voice as he shifted the rifle so he could hold onto it with one hand comfortably, then reached out with his other hand to Rachel. She grabbed it, needing the comfort, even if it would likely impede their running. Warily, for a moment the pair stared at the mass of zombies, now temporarily stuck in the doorway because they were too brainless to realize if they all tried to go through, they wouldn't make it._

 _The ones in front were struggling to break free, waving their arms in the hallway._

 _LeRoy ran, bringing Rachel with him. Every step was painful, but Rachel took no notice as she struggled to keep up with her father. The pair pressed themselves against the boxes against the wall, while trying to go as fast as they could. For a moment, Rachel hated the owner of this studio for keeping boxes in the hall, for the layout, for being open today, then guiltily pushed that thought aside; the owner had no idea what would happen, that their customers would turn into zombies, feast upon their own children, then try to kill Rachel and her surviving father._

 _"Just stick closely to the boxes Pumpkin, " her father muttered, "And be as fast as you can," he finished with a little sigh. Rachel immediately picked up her speed, even though it hurt her terribly to do so._

 _The exit was so close, Rachel knew, they just had to get past those hands and gnashing teeth. Rachel barely had time to second guess their path, when her father was pulling her through the small space in-between the arms and boxes, the finger's of the grasping zombies just barely skimming them. A box fell, hitting her painfully on the shoulder, causing Rachel to instinctively step away._

 _Right into the waiting arms, ready to pull Rachel to their teeth where they would try to get her brains, Rachel realized dazedly as she was pulled from her father's grasp. This was it, this was how she died. Not murdered by an obsessed fan, or very tragically on stage, or mysteriously that would have people arguing if she had faked her death, and was still alive somewhere retired from her fame._

 _Most of them seemed try to grab at her, and her clothing without thought, missing, just forever attempting to grab her. One managed to grab her hair, another grabbed her backpack, and yet another had her sleeve tightly held in her -it's clutches. She had barely been able to utter, "Papa," before her father, obviously realizing she was in trouble, turned around, and with several frantic stops towards her, starting hitting the things with the rifle butt, with -not with determination, but with desperation._

 _Rachel struggled and tried to pull away, tears falling freely from her eyes as she desperately tried to escape the grasps of the undead that held her. She could feel their nails digging into her clothes, pressure points hit her all over as she struggled to escape. Next to her, her father was roaring at her to pull away, alternating with pleading with the zombies to let her go as he hopelessly pummeled zombies with the rifle butt._

 _Desperate, as she tried to pull away, she started trying to pull boxes onto the zombies, frantic and hopeless. The zombies took no notice of what boxes she managed to get to fall, most weren't hitting them but landing dangerously near her anyway, and she felt herself budging inch by inch towards their hungry mouths._

 _She struggled with all her might, then finally screamed._

 _"Pumpkin!" LeRoy shouted her name, then with a roar he rushed towards her, dropping the rifle. He grabbed her, pulling her to safety and had a moment to say, "I love you Pumpkin," before the arms pulled him to the hungry mouths that waited, "Run..." he muttered._

 _"No, no, papa I cannot leave you!" She could only stare helplessly as the zombies started taking bites out of him._

 _Some of the zombies, in trying to get a better bite from her father, squeezed out of the doorway, and noticed her. "Run!" Her father commanded._

 _Then he started screaming._

 _Rachel turned, and ran._

 _Then she tripped over the forgotten rifle._

 _She fell to the ground, hard, then let out a sob as she realized the fall had knocked out all her teeth._

 _She frantically tried to pick them up, before she felt something bite into her ankle._

 _She was bitten, she was not immune, and now she was going to die. Toothless. What would Quinn do without her? What would their group do without her yin to Quinn's yang?_

Rachel woke up Sunday morning slowly. Her heart was racing. A quick glance showed her it was twenty minutes before her alarm was due to go off, so returning to sleep would be pointless. She was not sure she would be able to return to sleep anyway.

It was silly, but she felt the need to check her teeth, just to make sure they were intact and where they were supposed to be.

They were.

She scooped up the still sleeping Starla, and padded downstairs in her nightgown to let the dog out to go potty. Once Starla had, (and Rachel watched amused as the dog had pointedly ignored Rachel in favor of walking past her and to settle in her dog bed) Rachel jumped into the shower.

She wasn't used to hot showers any more, and could not quite bring herself to luxuriate in one.

She dressed mechanically, settling on a dress, tights, and cardigan -before switching out the cardigan with one of Hiram's sweaters.

It did not matter what she wore anyway.

Hiram came down the stairs when Rachel was on her second cup of coffee.

He stopped short and stared at her, then said, "Darling, since when do you drink coffee? I thought your papa and I told you that you may _try_ it _after_ you start high school?"

The lie came to her quickly, "I woke up before my alarm, and I do not want to be sleepy at the audition."

He frowned at her, "It is a near two hour drive darling, you could have napped on the way there."

Mercifully, he says no more about it; the excitement of Rachel's audition always made him more lenient.

Rachel was really quite lucky she had two doting parents who spoiled her just a bit.

She did not sleep on the drive to Columbus -her fathers helped her rehearse Louisa's lines and they sang "Some of my Favorite Things" -her audition song, over and over together. Often times her dads would stop singing just to enjoy listening to her. When Rachel needed a break, or Hiram worried himself into a frenzy about the audition, they listened to a mix CD of various songs from various musicals.

She felt rusty, at first, but by the time they had drove onto the Columbus exit that feeling had gone away.

She was more than ready to get this over with.

A feeling that intensified as her fathers spoke with, and realized, the new teacher was a hack.

She was not exactly looking forward to school on Monday -the Berry's had a meeting with the principal and a police officer after lunch, and there was just Junior High in general to deal with.

She did not even remember which locker was hers, let alone the combination or her class schedule.

But handling that would be less of a waste of time then this audition.

"Darling, how on earth are you so calm?" Hiram asked as they waited for Rachel's name to be called, "We brought half a dozen water bottles but you have not needed a single one."

"Remember how at the last audition you had to pee three times?" LeRoy said then chuckled.

"Perhaps it was the coffee?" she suggested with a shrug.

It was quite easy to be calm when she knew that she was not going to get the part, and that there were much more bigger things to be concerned about.

"Please do not make a habit of drinking it, you are a wee bit too young for it darling," Hiram frowned, "And the amount of cream and sugar you put into it was way too many cal-"

"Hiram," LeRoy said sharply, and gave her daddy a pointed look.

Rachel's name was called, and as she walked to the stairs she could see LeRoy whispering rapidly to Hiram about not policing Rachel's calories.

That was an old argument they used to have, that they likely did not realize that she knew about. Hiram had been constantly worried that Rachel would eat herself out of stardom, while LeRoy was more worried that Hiram's worry would give Rachel an eating disorder. Especially when Rachel wasn't a huge eater in general anyway, so Hiram's fears were more anxiety ridden nitpicking than anything else.

Rachel had totally forgotten about it. It was funny how after your loved one was gone, you only remembered the good about them. Perhaps it was a way for people to cope with the loss.

"Name, role, and song?" a bored looking blonde woman asked from the front row. The lights seemed too bright, and she suddenly wished she had been more insistent on not wasting their time for this. She could count the days down to the day if she wanted to, and none of them should be wasted.

Rachel managed a smile, and said, "Rachel Berry," then, she decided since she was not going to get the part anyway, to reach for the stars. "I am auditioning for the role of Liesl. I will be singing..." it took her a moment to think of something, finally she said, "Mama Who Bore Me from Spring Awaking. Acapella."

'Mama Who Bore Me' had been the last song they had listened to in the car.

Singing acapella at auditions was a terrible idea and generally not allowed in the first place...but frankly, she did not really care.

She stared intently out into the audience, then started singing after a moment, " _Mama who bore me...Mama who gave me..."_

* * *

Hiram managed to last until they were at the car before he burst. "Rachel, sweetie, what happened? You sang the wrong song, for the wrong part. You are too _young_ for Liesl, you have _zero_ chance of getting the part now. How do you expect to prepare for Broadway if you do not get parts in community theater?" he took a deep breath, and stared at her as she opened her door.

Rachel had enough, "I _told_ you I did not want to audition. I am not a little girl, my wishes should be respected." Hiram flinched at her words.

No. Not at her words -at her _tone_.

It was the tone of a someone who had made hard choices, and done things she never would have thought she would have done.

It was the tone of a survivor; cold, blunt, with an edge of danger.

She swallowed hard utterly aghast at herself.

"Hiram, she did say she did not want to audition. Rachel, we realize you aren't a little girl, but we are still your parents. Part of being parents is making choices for you." LeRoy said patiently.

"We spend a lot of money and time for you to learn these skills Rachel, and for you to just throw all that away," Hiram sounded like Rachel had just told him she hated him; the disappointment and melancholy coming through clearly.

"You are both correct. I am sorry daddy, papa. I did not think I would get the part anyway, so I decided to aim high, with the hopes that I would stand out by singing without music," she added, in hopes that it would distract them a bit, "Jill said...well, she said several racist things I will not repeat about my audition for 'The Sound of Music'. I let her get to me, I am sorry."

Her dads shared a look, and Hiram's jaw clinched. "Has that terrible girl been bullying you this entire time? What a little -"

"Hiram," LeRoy cut him off, "We will deal with her. I'll call our lawyer once we're home and have her meet us at the school tomorrow."

She climbed into the car, and her parents joined her, discussing tomorrow.

Her audition was forgotten, it seemed.

She hated lying to them about anything, but she could not exactly tell them the truth.

And she really hated how _easy_ it was to lie to them.

The drive home started silent, as the three seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually, though Rachel found herself watching her dads bickering over which station to listen through, eventually coming to a compromise of switching every commercial break. They both sing along to every song, regardless of if it's their preferred station or not.

Rachel felt like crying because she loved them _so_ much. She settled on singing along with them instead. She vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep them alive.

Even if it meant disappointing them.

* * *

"Good job boys, now help your sister," Abrams barked to his children as all three of them ran through the kid friendly obstacle course he'd built in the backyard for them.

Artie nodded, and gestured to Arthur, then both boys ran to their sister.

Abrams loved watching Artie run.

At first, he'd been confused and nearly convinced he was in some sort of hell.

He'd stopped his wife, and sons from going out anyway.

The drunk driver ended up wrapping herself around a pole instead of his wife's car.

Most marriages didn't survive losing a child, and theirs had not been exception. Now though, Arthur didn't die. Artie didn't lose the use of his legs.

Over three years now, and their family had grown instead of being torn apart.

Nearly two year old Arlene toddled over the tires, Artie and Arthur making sure she didn't fall.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing he'd end up changing, he though, grimly glancing up at the sky.

That had been much more difficult, but he'd known the right words to say to the right people, and well, this time earth wasn't going to be such easy pickings.

NASA's budget was at a record high, even if the President was getting flack for it.

He wondered idly if the next President would get the same flack or not.

That was the more public of what the USA and other governments had been doing. Behind the scenes...well.

The general public would flip out if they knew. Even the amount of satellites that had gone up, orbiting the moon and just away from earth in order to give them more advanced knowledge alone would raise some eyebrows.

Sometimes he wondered how the kids were doing -damned if he could remember their names, just that they were in Lima. A town the Abrams family would _not_ be moving to this time.

He hoped they were preparing, getting ready for what was coming.

Like he was trying to do.

"Artie, run through again son, then we'll head into the house. I'm thinking ice-cream!" The kids cheered, and obediently Artie went to do as he was told.

Hopefully what he was doing with the government, and a good portion of earth's governments would do a lot to prevent what had happened.

If not, though, the Abrams family would be ready for what was coming. Abrams wasn't going to lose his family again.

* * *

 **A/N:**

If you've just clicked this story please know that this is a sequel, and I highly suggest you go read the first story "Dead Girls Don't Sing"!

I always, when writing, picture Rachel fathers as the men we saw in the picture with her in her locker, not Brian Stokes Mitchell and Jeff Goldblum.

I didn't show Abrams's arrival back in time, but we did get a peak at him and Artie and Artie's sibling -Abrams has certainly been busy since he's come back in time, hmm?

 **Drop me a review and let me know what you think! Signed in reviews get a little taste of the next chapter** (unless you express that you don't want a preview of the next chapter.) If you have a question or something you want to discuss, I'll reply to that too. :)

Oh, and you can find me on tumblr on my writing blog at **Gee13.** Lots of writing stuff, musings about glee things, and the best way (besides just simply sending me a pm here) to get ahold of me. I am seriously thrilled, you have no idea how much, whenever a reader reaches out to me on there. I will talk your ear off about whatever, honestly. :D So feel free to do so.


	2. Wishin' and Hoping

Hiram was stewing about her "blowing" the audition. Rachel could tell by the way he sat in the passenger seat, he had always worn his emotions clearly.

LeRoy, on the other hand, had always been the family rock, the calm one among the drama prone, Rachel had no idea if he agreed with Hiram or not, but...he wanted her to be a star too, so Rachel knew it was likely.

It was amazing how much Rachel had grown to be like LeRoy during the apocalypse. She had even picked a partner that was similar to Hiram in feeling moods vividly, even if the apocalypse had muted Quinn in shades of grey.

The car ride was somber; her dads discussed work, and some things that needed to be done in the house, and LeRoy noted that Starla had been getting a little slower, and walking with a slight limp in her back left leg. She wanted so badly to explain to Hiram that it did not matter what she had sang, she never even got call backs for anything she tried out for -but of course, she did not.

Hiram was saying, "Of course we shall take her to the vet, I'll try to get us in tomorrow during our lunch break," when LeRoy's clunky phone rang.

She felt terrible he was feeling bad because he simply did not understand, but it was difficult for her to be upset about the audition itself.

She could quite _literally_ count down the days until the end of the world. Every day _needed_ to be spent doing something productive towards future survival.

Hiram answered it for him with a frown after he looked at the name on the screen.

"Hello Miss Henrietta. We should be entering Lima shortly, LeRoy will not be late." Hiram drew in breath sharply, then said, "I see. LeRoy and I will have to discuss it."

Hiram's voice was low. It only turned that low when he was _very_ upset, bordering on angry. "Rachel Barbra Berry, did you ride your bike all the way across town to Miss Henrietta's house yesterday?"

"Yes daddy, I-"

"And did you tell her that you would like to go to church with her and LeRoy? And spend more time with her?"

"Hiram," LeRoy said.

Hiram turned to him, "Did you _know_ about this LeRoy? I thought we _agreed_ -that woman, and her antiquated poison, will not fill our daughter's mind!"

"I didn't know, no. But I think Rachel's old enough to realize that Miss Henrietta has dated opinions that we don't agree with." LeRoy sighed, and added, "And she's _also_ old enough to know that there are people out there that think like Miss Henrietta does, but they don't have age to excuse them."

Hiram clinched his jaw, and turned, staring firmly out the windshield, "We _will_ discuss this later LeRoy. What do you have to say for yourself Rachel? You could have been _kidnapped_."

The silence in the car sat heavily as he waited expectantly for her reply. She didn't know what to say. Her first instinct was to argue that Miss Henrietta was her family, and could teach her many things that her father's didn't know -like sewing. She practically bit her tongue to stay quiet, then sighed softly as she realized that an apology would help things be less tense.

"I'm sorry daddy, I should not have rode my bike that far without saying something. I thought it would be okay."

Hiram inhaled, and exhaled slowly out his nose before answering, "I need to think about this darling."

The silence in the car was heavier then before.

Hiram was correct; they were quite close to Lima, and soon Rachel was stepping out of the car onto their driveway watching Hiram stiffly walk through the front door.

"Rachel, I wish you had spoken to me and your daddy first," LeRoy stared at her, "I understand wanting to have a woman in your life, especially as you're getting older, but-"

Rachel interrupted him, shaking her head, "You and daddy are perfect; it was not about needing a mother or a woman, it was simply wanting to connect with a family member you clearly love, despite her more unsavory side."

LeRoy smiled at her, "That is very sweet of you Pumpkin."

"I think we should head inside now, and speak to Daddy."

LeRoy nodded, took her hand, and together they walked into the house.

Hiram was waiting for them, holding Starla and petting her. Once LeRoy closed the door, Hiram took a deep breath, "Rachel may join you and Miss Henrietta at church, but she will _not_ be baptized or anything. She -"

"Daddy, I am _Jewish_ ," Rachel interjected, and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. She pulled back and added, "No matter how often I may join Papa and Miss Henrietta at her church, I assure you, I will _remain_ Jewish."

Hiram frowned down at her, but nodded, "Very well. And on days you join LeRoy and Miss Henrietta at church, I will join the three of you for lunch. Assuming," he looked up at LeRoy, "Miss Henrietta can behave herself." His tone made it clear he'd rather eat broken glass, but he'd make the sacrifice for them.

LeRoy smiled, and Rachel felt elated that a sticky situation had been avoided, but also because she simply loved seeing him smile and had not realized how much she had missed it.

"She'll be delighted to have you both; she always makes too much food in hopes, I assume, that I'm not the only one who visits her. I think she's a bit lonely, so being around Rachel more will do her a world of good." LeRoy glanced at his watch, "Speaking of which Pumpkin, we should get going. Hiram, we'll swing by and pick you up after service."

Hiram nodded stiffly, sighed, then gave LeRoy and Rachel pecks on the cheek, careful not to squish Starla.

* * *

Brittany frowned at the rainbow peaking through the clouds. She hated rainbows now, because one had killed her sister. Of course, maybe she could forgive them since it hadn't - _wouldn't,_ happen again.

Then again, the rainbow lasers would still probably kill a lot of other people so maybe it was okay to still hate them. She was brought out of her thoughts by Lord Tubbington batting at her bracelet.

Santana had gotten them friendship bracelets for Brittany's birthday a few weeks ago, platinum from Tiffany's -the store, not Brittany's sister, and paid for with her credit card.

Brittany loved their bracelets, and had cried herself to sleep so much when Santana asked her not to wear hers anymore because it made Santana sad that Brittany had been dating Artie. Well, that was the _real_ reason, but Santana had rolled her eyes and said the bracelets were childish and clashed with everything.

That wasn't going to happen this time.

Brittany had decided she wasn't going to date, or have sex with, anyone but Santana. Because they were married, and it still counted even if Santana didn't know.

Yet.

Hopefully.

Sometimes Brittany had a nightmare where she was the only one still, even when the end of the world happened.

Lord Tubbington batted at her bracelet again, and she reached down and scratched his chin. He was in the gangly teenage cat stage.

Not only had he chosen her, he'd _known_ her. He'd known her and Santana and all the things she'd taught him in the before.

It made the now less lonely to know that she wasn't the only one. Brittany wasn't dumb, she realized that if she had time traveled, then the others had too, but it was really hard to know _when._ They would. They would too and she wouldn't be alone _._

Santana hadn't yet, neither had Tina.

"Ugh, Hannah you jump like a pug. Which works, because you have the face of one," Santana snapped, then shot a quick glance at Brittany to see if she'd say anything. Brittany shook her head slightly at Santana, with a frown. Santana added, "But your kicks are great. Unlike Tina's."

The first time she'd met Santana, they had been in fourth grade.

Santana was the new kid, transferring to their school with only a few weeks left before the summer.

Brittany was always content to be by herself most of the time, and when she felt like company she'd play or talk to whoever she wanted to, everyone liked her because she was nice and friendly and a little odd.

The first time she really noticed Santana, and actually spoke to her, Santana had pulled her one of her pig tails, and called her an idiot and a few Spanish words because Brittany was carefully coloring outside the lines of the coloring book she was working on at recess.

Brittany had reached out, agile and swift from dancing, and kicked Santana hard enough that tears came to her eyes, quick enough that the teachers milling around didn't notice.

Then Brittany had shown her how pretty the finished coloring pages were when everything but the main part was colored.

Santana had looked at her, wiping away the tears, and called her weird -but then she'd hovered around her at recess-just out of kicking range, until school ended. Sometimes they'd talk, but Brittany was pretty content on being by herself so most of the time they didn't, or Santana would talk and Brittany would listen.

They were in separate classes all the way up till seventh grade, when they went from one teacher teaching all the classes, to switching to multiple teachers in a day.

They had the same home room teacher, and two classes together in seventh grade.

That was almost enough, but their friendship was cemented when they both made their Junior High cheer team, and went to cheerleading camp that summer.

Hannah -who Brittany had been best friends with since they were little, and who went to a private school so they only saw each other a few times during the week, did _not_ like Santana.

The feeling was mutual.

With hindsight, and maturity, Brittany could see that Hannah felt their friendship was slipping away.

While Santana was jealous.

They'd both lost their virginities to the same boy at cheer camp the summer before they started high school. He'd been from Roswell, New Mexico -and Brittany had been first.

Once more, in hindsight, she realized Santana had only had sex with him because _Brittany_ had and she was jealous.

That was this summer, and it _also_ wasn't going to happen this time.

"Tina, you need to jump higher. Why are you even bothering to practice with us, since you're only a seventh grader?" Santana snarled, and Brittany gave Lord Tubbington another scratch, and peaked over the side of the pack n' play at her sister, who was gumming a large wood block and rattling a noise maker around.

"Because she's my friend and she's going to be so awesome next year," Brittany said, "She'll have plenty of time to practice everything."

Santana flipped her hair, and without a word, turned around to show Hannah and Tina the routine again.

Brittany watched Santana mess up a couple parts of the routine; she could tell Hannah noticed too, but didn't say anything.

She'd forgotten how much they -she and Hannah, with a very bored Santana a few times to help, before Hannah told her that she thought Santana was mean and made her nervous, worked to get Hannah on the Cheerios.

Hannah and her had been best friends since they were four.

Of course, they grew apart. That's life.

Brittany had Santana, then Quinn, and Hannah didn't really approve of how free Brittany was with her love.

Hannah was a bit of a prude.

Brittany wasn't going to make out with everyone any more, though. Maybe her and Hannah wouldn't grow apart this time.

Hannah picked a piece of grass out of her pony tail and sighed, "Brittany, try outs aren't until July!"

"Y..yeah," Tina added. She still looked like Brittany was pulling a mean prank on her, even though it'd been months since Brittany had sought her out and started being friendly with her.

They'd gone to the same middle school.

Time travel was _lonely._

This wasn't _her_ Tina, not yet, but just being in her presence was a comfort to Brittany.

It was easy to tell herself that Tina had wanted to be Cheerio -who hadn't, anyway, so it was okay that Brittany had befriended her and practically forced Tina to join in on their training.

 _Tina was 64 inches tall. Brittany was 68 inches tall. That was 11 feet. The door, and a tiny ledge, sat 12 feet above them. The ledge was 6 inches thick. So that made 1 and a half feet that they needed to reach._

 _Tina wasn't strong enough to throw Brittany up enough yet, and she couldn't just jump from Tina's hands._

 _It had to be Brittany, because Tina wouldn't be able to reach the small pulley system perched above the door._

 _A pulley system with a rope that their captors used to lower their trey and replace their bathroom bucket._

 _The rope she'd use to get Tina up on the ledge with her._

 _Then they would get through the door somehow, and leave._

 _Together._

 _The candle flickered as Brittany hopped out of Tina's held together hands._

 _Tina was really close to being able to toss her high enough._

 _Really close._

 _Brittany could practically feel the ledge in her hands._

 _Soon, they'd escape soon._

 _"I can't even imagine doing this out in grass, in the sun," Tina said softly._

 _Brittany didn't bother to smile -they weren't close enough to the candle for Tina to see it anyway, "It's a lot better although I could be thinking that because I miss the grass and sun. There's a lot of rules. For safety."_

 _"Did Coach Sylvester follow them?"_

 _"Yeah. You can't compete if you don't, and if you break any rules during competitions, you're disqualified. She would never take the risk."_

 _Tina walked carefully towards their bed -a habit they'd taken to once they'd been given the candle, in order to not kill it. She settled on the bed, trying to get comfortable._

 _Brittany hoped her sister was comfortable._

 _She sighed, and Tina must have heard because she mirrored it, then said, "I wish I'd been a Cheerio. I would have never got on the team, but..."_

 _"Anyone can learn to be a cheerleader Tina, you could have made the team if someone taught you. I taught Hannah the whole summer before freshman year, and she really stunk at first. Santana hated it -I think she was jealous of Hannah. "_

 _"I wasn't exactly friends with anyone that could have taught me" Tina's voice went a little dreamy, "I can just imagine my mom's face if I asked for a cheerleading tutor..." she sighed again, "I miss my mom and dad."_

 _Brittany sat carefully next to Tina, and "I miss mine too."_

 _Sometimes she wondered how things would have been if her parents had stayed alive._

 _She hoped she wouldn't have still been in this hole, but she'd rather be here then just Tina by herself, or her sister and Sarah or Lord Tubbington and Santana -Lord Tubbington would have ate Santana by day three._

So it wasn't _totally_ selfish of her if it was something Tina had wanted anyway, and Brittany wasn't hurting anyone by making sure Tina made the team.

Tina would be an 8th grader, but Brittany fully intended on staying her friend, and teaching her a lot during the school year, so that by the time Tina tried out next year she'd be amazing.

"Lord Tubbington can do the splits better then you can Hannah," Brittany shot her friend a smile trying to make her words less mean, "And just because it's April right now doesn't mean we can't practice. Because we practiced so hard, we got on the team, and we looked awesome in our costumes."

"Tina can't even try out until next year," Hannah muttered. She was still wary of Tina, and didn't really like the fact that Tina joined them so much.

On the porch, speaking of him, Lord Tubbington stared at them. His tail flicked at the mention of his name. Brittany was really sure he'd time traveled too because he seemed to know everything she was trying to teach him.

So she was teaching him new things.

Like how to trip people.

Her dad _really_ hated that one.

Brittany figured he could make a zombie fall then it'd be easier for her to kill.

She wanted to kill a lot of zombies.

* * *

Miss Henrietta was frowning on her porch as Rachel and her papa drove up to the house. Pursing her lips, Miss Henrietta stepped forward and had the door open even before LeRoy had put the car in park.

She ducked in, careful not to bump her large hat against the car ceiling, "You are _late_. I hope our girl gets the part, although Lord knows it will be a trial driving to the city so much. They'd be fools to pass her up," she sighed impatiently as she settled into the front passenger seat, adjusting herself and pulling on her seat belt, then half turned towards Rachel, "Hello Rachel."

Rachel wondered when she had become Miss Henrietta's girl -she could not recall Miss Henrietta ever referring to her with such ownership and pride before, of course, she had barely interacted with her.

"I'm sorry we are late Miss Henrietta, I am afraid it's my fault."

"Well, all that matters is that you are here now Pumpkin." When Miss Henrietta called her pumpkin, LeRoy made eye contact with Rachel through the rear view window, nodding slightly at her. Clearly, he was trying to convey that if she had a problem with Miss Henrietta using LeRoy's term of endearment for her, to tell him later.

Rachel would keep silent. She did not mind if Miss Henrietta used it along with LeRoy. It would be a fair trade for all the knowledge and skills she was hoping to learn from her great grandmother, and it was certainly nicer then some things she had been called, even by Miss Henrietta herself, before.

"What do we have to look forward to for lunch Miss Henrietta?"

Miss Henrietta snorted, "You mean, did I make that wimpy meal you wanted for your partner? I made baked chicken instead of fried, and cut the butter in half mashed potatoes. I will _not_ make vegan food, but the rest of the sides are vegetarian if he can't handle that. I promise you LeRoy, he's not going to have a attack after lunch."

"Miss Henrietta, remember how we talked about speaking about Hiram? That goes double when Rachel is with us." LeRoy said carefully, a note of warning in his voice that Rachel rarely heard from him.

Miss Henrietta exhaled slowly through her nose, "Now you know I don't mean anything by it LeRoy. Somehow you two managed to raise a divine girl without a woman's touch, so I suppose Hiram can't be all _that_ bad."

LeRoy eased into a parking space, then turned the car off. "Well, thank you. I think that is the nicest thing you've ever said about Hiram."

"Well, I hadn't really been able to properly get to know Rachel before, have I?" Miss Henrietta turned towards Rachel, "You are marvelous, Pumpkin. We need to hurry before someone ignores basic common decency and doesn't respect Mildred saving our pew."

She unbuckled her seatbelt, and waited until LeRoy opened her door before exiting the car. She took his arm, and when Rachel joined them, she took Rachel's arm as well. Together, the trio walked through the parking lot.

"This is Rachel, my LeRoy's daughter. Her mother's a Jew, with _very_ strong genes" was how Miss Henrietta introduced Rachel to anyone who stopped by to speak to her as they made their way through the church towards their seats. Which was practically everyone; Miss Henrietta was apparently _very_ popular at her church.

Mildred -a tiny, frail looking woman with straw berry blonde hair and an almost comically over sized purse and glasses was waiting for them, sans anyone who 'ignored common decency.'

"This is my Rachel," Miss Henrietta beamed at them both as Rachel stuck out a hand to shake with Mildred, "This is Miss Mildred Fern."

Miss Mildred's grip was surprisingly strong and sturdy as they shook hands and Rachel said pleasantries which was all they had time for before they had to take a seat as the choir entered.

Rachel watched as they entered in a swarm, her arms wrapped around herself as she forced herself to take even, deep breaths.

The choir were not zombies. She was okay. Finally, she closed her eyes until the first notes of the first song started.

She immediately noticed Mercedes. An young looking, alive, trying to be noticed despite her position in the choir, Mercedes.

Rachel smiled, and found herself enjoying the show as much as she could. It helped to focus on Mercedes

"They're quite a lovely choir," Rachel whispered to Miss Henrietta, who beamed at her as the choir exited the stage to make way for a too smiley preacher.

Rachel tuned out the sermon; listening just enough to be able to comment on it should anyone ask her what she thought. She was trying not to think about anything; not the future, not tomorrow and junior high, not Quinn, not the others, not the end of the world, not the fear that she would lose her dads so quickly, so needlessly again.

Nothing.

It was easier with the preacher's gravelly voice as background noise then attempting to do so at home; for that reason alone coming today had been worth it and would likely, if she had the time, ensure she would return.

Before Rachel knew it, they were driving back to the Berry home to pick up Hiram - Miss Mildred had declined to join them for their meal.

Miss Henrietta asked Rachel a few questions about what she thought of the sermon during the drive and Rachel answered to her satisfaction then Miss Henrietta moved onto gossiping with LeRoy about their fellow church goers, which continued ever after they picked up a blank looking Hiram and drove to Miss Henrietta's home.

Soon, they were seated at the table awkwardly on their best behavior.

"Now make sure you all save room for rhubarb pie. It's a secret family recipe," Miss Henrietta beamed at them, then added, "Rachel remind me to teach you it, it's the sure fire way to a man's heart. That's how I cinched things with your great grandfather; rest his soul."

Rachel finished chewing on her bite of mashed potatoes, then asked, "Will it work on women's hearts as well?" She had no idea if Quinn liked rhubarb.

Miss Henrietta stiffened, "Well, I suppose it would; I'm afraid I wouldn't know for sure. Does...do you want it too?"

"Theoretically, yes. I am bisexual." She said this more to her dads then her great grandmother. It had been one thing to realize and admit it to herself, but she hadn't quite admitted it to her fathers, deciding the best way to do so was dramatically when she brought, _if_ she brought, a woman home to meet them.

Some part of her had worried they would be disappointed in her; that by being bisexual she was feeding into the ugliness spouted by bigots about children of gay couples being made gay.

She knew logically it was ridiculous, but still she had held back from telling them, and soon it had been too late.

No more holding back from being honest with those around her...as honest as she could be.

"Well, that certainly is something," was all Miss Henrietta said, a not quite-frown on her face. LeRoy swiftly changed the subject to, Rachel was quite sure he made up, a bit of gossip about someone from their church while Hiram simply reached over, and gave her a hug.

* * *

Later, after Tina and Hannah had gone home, Brittany watched her mom clutched at her purse straps, staring at Brittany and Santana with a frown, "Brittany, we're trusting you to watch your sister. She, and you and Santana, should be in bed by the time we're back which will be no later than three. I expect you to do her routine, and to clean up after yourselves."

Brittany grinned at her, "I know mom. I'm responsible! Lord Tubbington will make sure we clean up after dinner."

Her mother pursed her lips together and a sigh escaped.

She did that a lot, especially when Brittany talked about Lord Tubbington.

"Don't worry Mrs. Pierce, Tiffany's in good hands. I've got more baby cousins then I can count, and I'm always expected to watch them." Santana smiled at Brittany's mom winningly, and her mom relaxed slightly.

"Dear, we need to go," Brittany's dad came down the stairs, tying his tie. He stood next to her mom. Brittany would never get tired of looking at them, doubly so when they were dressed up like they were tonight. Her mom was so pretty, and her dad was so handsome.

Her mom let go of her purse, "Obviously, Tiffany needs to be in bed much earlier then you two. And I meant do her routine for _her_ , Brittany. Don't forget to-"

Her dad cut her off, "Dear, they'll be fine. Here girls," he pulled out his wallet and handed Brittany some money, "Order some pizza."

"Stephan," her mom sighed, and he grinned at her.

Tiffany had -would have, his smile. Brittany had his nose. They both had his blonde hair instead of their mom's strawberry blonde. Genetics were awesome.

"Santana, don't let Brittany watch any horror movies, they give her nightmares." Her dad added as he gently guided her mom towards the door.

"Have fun!" Brittany called.

"You too!" Her dad said as the door closed. Brittany could hear her mom saying something to him, but couldn't make out the words.

Santana hopped from one foot to the other, and grinned at her, careful not to jostle Tiffany who was in her arms. She pulled up Tiffany's shirt, and blew a raspberry on her stomach.

Tiffany giggled with happiness, finally yelled, "San! San! San!"

Santana looked up at Brittany, grinning, "When's the munchkin go to bed again?"

"She should eat in an hour, then bedtime routine, then bed at eight." Brittany played with her bracelet, nervous about once they were alone. She didn't want to hurt Santana's feelings, but she also really didn't want to do more than kissing; even then she felt icky.

Santana would want to kiss and do other things after Tiffany went to bed, sneaking it in before her parents got home. Brittany felt icky because Santana seemed so young.

So far she had made herself ignore that feeling and keep kissing Santana anyway, holding back from too much more because she didn't want to hurt Santana's heart...but making herself kiss someone she didn't like kissing right now made Brittany feel even ickier.

Santana just seemed so young, and Brittany felt so old. This Santana was not Brittany's Santana any more then Brittany was her Brittany. Too much time and things had happened, and it was a good thing Brittany was so good at pretending.

She wished her Santana was here, and this Santana could go with the Brittany that had been here before Brittany time traveled back in time, where ever that was.

Santana nodded, "What movie did you decide on?"

"Sugar 'n Spice. Bank robbing cheerleaders, just to get us in the mood for tryouts. "

Santana snorted, "That's like four months away, there's other moods we could have before then."

Brittany shrugged, "Lord Tubbington thinks they'll be tough, so it's a good thing we're getting ready so soon."

"Brittany, your cat can not think like that. And-" Santana trailed off as Brittany made a 'come here' then an okay hand motion to Lord Tubbington. He obediently walked towards her, then upon spying the 'okay' motion he sat down.

Brittany twirled her finger, and he stood up, and moved around in a circle the exact number of times she had moved her hand.

"That cat is creepy," Santana snorted, "Your sister isn't though. she's awesome. I totally can't wait to have a baby. Not like, any time soon, my cousin Maria just had a baby and no, definitely don't want one until after college, but one day."

In Santana's arms, Tiffany leaned against Santana's chest, making 'come here' motions towards Lord Tubbington.

A flash of sadness went through Brittany, but she didn't let it stop her from saying, "I want to have at least six of your babies Santana." She shouldn't push Santana so much, but she couldn't help it.

Santana flushed, looking down. Brittany had to contain a sigh; she was just so _young_.

"I'll order the pizza! Do you think they'll give me some sardines on the side?"

Santana looked up at her through her eyelashes, then smiled. "Maybe if you ask really nicely. I'm assuming they're for the cat."

"Of course, I mean, they aren't bad but he likes them more then I do."

Santana snorted, then sighed, "I wish your mom wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" She knew, of course, what Santana was going to say. This had been an old discussion between them...although, after her parents became zombies, Santana never really talked about them like this.

"Your mom treats you like...she acts like, they both do..." Another reminder at how young Santana was right now, she couldn't come right out and say something like this to her.

"I'm stupid? It's okay."

"It's not. You aren't. "

"I'm pretty sure you called me stupid last week, Santana."

"Well, I'm sorry, but thinking Buffy isn't serious about Satsu was stupid."

"She's going to go right back to Angel."

"No. She's totally gay or bisexual. Sometimes, it takes someone a while to discover who they are...and then even longer to accept it..." Santana trailed off, not daring to look at Brittany.

They hadn't had this argument last time, because Brittany had agreed with Santana about the Buffy Satsu relationship. They'd both been super disappointed when that plot had lead basically nowhere, and was made out to be some sort of experimentation or something.

"I don't mind it Santana, it's okay. And because of it I made a bet with them that if I got straight A's, I'm going to get a dog too."

It hadn't been hard to convince them, despite just getting Lord Tubbington, to promise that if she got straight A's she could get a puppy too.

Brittany had never gotten straight A's before. She was going to this year though. And the next, and the next, and hopefully her parents would keep betting against her.

When you did it a second time, school was really really easy, even when the letters danced across the page and it was hard to pay attention when she had the future on her mind.

She felt a little bad about cheating on the deal with her parents, but then she'd look at her sister, and she wouldn't feel bad any more.

The dog would be more for her then Brittany anyway.

Brittany hadn't decided on what kind of dog yet.

Churchill had been a really good dog till the end, so she was leaning towards another German Sheppard, but was going to take her time and really research just in case there was some weird breed specifically bred for the end of the world or something.

"Well, still. It's not right."

Brittany cocked her head to the side, "How is it any different than your family?"

Santana shifted uncomfortably, "Well, it's just different, okay? We're super tough, it weeds out weakness. You, you're too sweet and amazing to have anyone treat you like that, ever, even if it's your mom or dad."

Brittany smiled at her, "And that's why I married you in the future Santana. I think you're amazing too."

Santana looked away from her, a blush barely visible. "Um, I think this kid needs changing. Here," she handed Tiffany to her, their bracelets hitting each other gently.

It was a comforting sound.

* * *

She woke up as the sun rose, curled up in a small ball. Her muscles ached from not having moved in the night, and she was not as well rested as she should be because while she slept, it had been an alert sleep. Even when she had a restful sleep, she had terrible nightmares so it really did not matter because either way she slept terribly.

She took a quick, luke warm shower and dripping wet, brushed then flossed her teeth.

It was finally Saturday. The week had been spent going to school, being bored by school, ensuring that none of Jill's cronies would bother her, (Jill Clark had been expelled, and her middle school had swore to her dads (and their lawyer) that they would retrain the teachers and take bullying much more seriously -it would be district, if not county, wide. Given how incompetent McKinley's staff and board were, Rachel very much did not believe them,) and rushing from one after school activity to another. Her dads had spoken to her about her bisexuality -it was no less then she would have guessed they would do, that they loved her and were proud of her. If she had any friends, they would have likely told her about the new rules that applied to both male and female guests, such as an open door policy and other such measures...but Rachel did not have any friends.

Or at least, not any that were apparently in this time period.

Even then, she wasn't quite sure they were her friends except Sebastian. Tina, perhaps. They were her family, and Quinn her girlfriend.

She had laid awake the night after that conversation, wondering how it was going to work, if they would settle back into being family, being survivors, or if they would attempt to be friends first. It would be foolish to waste time doing things like going to prom or whatever, but they could not jump right into being family again either -that was clear from the first conversation she had with Sam.

She had gone to Miss Henrietta's on Friday, skipping two activities to do so, and helped in her garden as well as getting started learning how to can some of Miss Henrietta's early harvest.

Rachel, in between after her school activities and visiting Miss Henrietta, had also been planning.

She had a notebook filled with thoughts, things that would be useful to learn, and ideas, most of which, she was sure, she would not be able to accomplish.

Even if a two hundred acre private island in a mild climate would make the most _sense._ She had yet to speak to Sam again, and had a tentative idea to work up a schedule. At the very least, even if they did not have much to talk about, it would be nice to speak to someone who knew what was happening.

She was going to start tracking down the others this weekend; she missed them all so terribly, and it would be easier to plan if it was not simply on her.

"Rachel, Rachel oh it's the most amazing news," Hiram opened her door without knocking, "You got the part. I have no idea how, but darling, you got the part!"

Rachel stood, dripping wet, and stared at him.

Of course, of _course_ , she finally was able to take that first step towards Broadway, and actually got a fairly good part in a community theater production, something, despite many many auditions, she had never managed to do before.

And it did not matter one bit any more.

Hiram grinned at her, "Finish getting ready darling, you need your classes more than ever today!" Then he happily danced out of the room before she could answer him.

Rachel dressed slowly, trying to come to terms with the words she was going to have to say. It would disappoint her fathers. It would disappoint herself, even if logically she knew that there was no point in doing the musical.

Broadway was no longer in her future.

The smell of walking corpses. The feeling of hunger. Knowing that today was the day she could lose someone she cared about.

That was her future.

She walked downstairs, and slid into a chair at the breakfast table. Starla quickly sat herself down at Rachel's feet.

"You cannot make me do this," Rachel said quietly, staring at the table instead of at either of her fathers. At her feet, Starla was curled up snoring softly.

"Rachel, darling," Hiram's was a mixture of excitement, and confusion.

"I do not want to accept the part daddy, papa," the words hurt Rachel to say, to think. The part of her that was still the girl she had been apparently was somewhere deep inside her, because she felt like sobbing.

Naturally, when she knew what the future entailed, that was when she finally, _finally_ earned a part in community theater.

Hiram shook is head, "I do not understand you Rachel. One day, you were happily taking your classes and practicing your vocals. The next, you are ready to turn down the biggest opportunity of your life, after all the money and work put into getting you ready for Broadway. Has Miss Henrietta been putting these thoughts in your head?"

"Hiram," LeRoy said patiently, "She's growing up. She's allowed to change her mind about what she wants to do with her life. For years I wanted to be a milkman, then I turned seven and decided I wanted to be a fireman. She, for as brilliant as our daughter is, is just a child and her future isn't set in stone."

"That's not the same thing LeRoy, and you know it. She's been training for Broadway since before she could walk!"

"And maybe we pushed her into it? Maybe it's not what our Pumpkin actually wanted to do with her life. So many try and fail to be stars on Broadway, it's not an easy life Hiram. Let her choose what she wants to do."

Hiram stood there, breaking deeply. Finally, he stared at Rachel, "Accept this part, do this show. If you don't love it, you can quit. But I think we both know, Rachel Barbra Berry, that you'll love it because you, darling, were _made_ for the stage."

Rachel felt hot tears well up in her eyes as she nodded.

They were tears of frustration, tears of anger -and tears of relief. Because a part of her wanted to do this show, to show the world what Rachel Barbra Berry could do. She just could not have justified it to herself, but Hiram giving her no choice was easy to say when Santana and the others came back and asked why she'd wasted time doing this.

"What about the classes you are currently taking Pumpkin," LeRoy asked after they watched Hiram leave the room.

"I would like to drop them all, except Madam Luve's dance class. And I think I would like to take other classes, though."

Madam Luve's class was tough, it would keep her flexible and agile until she figured out a better alternative, preferably with the others.

* * *

 **A/N:**

As always, signed reviews will receive a reply and a sneak peek of the next chapter unless you specifically ask for no sneak peek.

I refuse to follow stunt casting for any of the gleek's parents so Brittany's aren't as shown on the show, same as Rachel's dads - this required changing Mr. Pierces first name.

Brittany's going to keep making comments and stuff about knowing/being from the future; she's basically the only character who can get away with that without being taken seriously or tossed in a mental health faculty and I am going to take _full_ advantage of that. :D

Next chapter we'll get a small time skip to around the Rachel & Brittany meeting, and then things are really going to take off.

Remember to follow my tumblr, Gee13, for cut scenes, art, chapter update status, and all sorts of things, including peeks of other work. Followers got an additional, different sneak peek of this chapter. (You can also add tumblrs to your RSS reader if you don't have a tumblr and see posts that way.)


	3. Sit Down You're Rockin The Boat

Rachel stood with her back to the wall, watching her fellow actors and actresses chat amongst themselves as they started to take their exit.

Rachel would leave last, or next to last.

The director -Connie, as she insisted everyone call her, gestured for Rachel to come to her. Rachel held back a sigh, and stepped lightly towards the older woman, keeping a watchful eye on the doors.

Just in case...if there was anything to be concerned about happening outside, even this _soon_ , she wanted to be ready. The knife -along with a canister of pepper spray was in her backpack, and she dearly wished she could wear it instead of keeping it hidden in her bag.

"Rachel Berry, this, " Connie gestured casually to the woman standing in front of her, "This is my friend Susan Pak. Ms. Pak is on the selection committee for the Redford School of Arts.

"R.S.A is one of the highest rated private high schools -it's where the cream of the crop are found. In our fifty six years of being active, we have yet to have a graduate not get into their first choice of college -Julliard especially loves us." Ms. Pak stared strongly at Rachel -and when Rachel refused to look away, she shot a smile over her head at Connie. "She was even better then you had led me to believe."

Connie smiled, "She's amazing. Shouldn't your parents be here soon Rachel."

Rachel shook her head, "Not on Tuesdays -I take the bus."

That had been a fight, but she'd managed to keep herself calm long enough to make her dads see reason -there was simply no need for them to take her to rehersals during the weekday when she could take a bus.

Once she had her way, she'd gone into her room and screamed into a pillow, then cried for a bit.

She absolutely _hated_ having to go through all this again -learning to handle her emotions and the sudden surge of hormones causing them had been difficult enough, but now she had the delightful added benefit of _knowing_ she was being illogical and silly but being unable to do much about it.

"Well, I think maybe I can drop in on rehearsals...Saturday?" Ms. Pak asked Connie who nodded. Ms. Pak grinned, then continued, "Saturday. I think we have a lot to speak about -you are starting high school next year right?"

Rachel's stomach dropped, "Yes...yes I am." She swallowed hard, and forced herself to politely add, as much as a part of her was screaming not to, "I am sorry Ms. Pak, but if you are implying you would like to speak to my parents about my attending R.S.A. next year and the years following, I am afraid that attending Saturday's rehearsals as well as today's was a waste of your time." She took a deep breath, and finished in a rush, "I am not planning on continuing on the stage, so while I am sure it would be wonderful and I would learn so very much, I would not wish to waste your time nor take the place of someone who would benefit more from the school."

Connie frowned, but Ms. Pak merely handed Rachel her card, said a curt, "Please call if you change your mind," then she and Connie stepped away.

Rachel took the opportunity to sling her backpack on and make her exit. It was a two hour bus ride to and from Columbus and Lima, and not only did riding the bus during the weekday mean that her father's could work normally, it saved money in fuel, and it gave Rachel _much_ needed time to herself. They would pick her up at the bus station, and she was quite certain Hiram called the bus terminal to ensure she'd gotten on the bus each time.

The sun was starting to set, and Rachel started lightly jogging -the theater was near the bus station, one of the reasons her father's agreed to allow her to ride it so it took only minutes for her to leave rehearsals and get on the bus back.

She pushed herself in those few minutes, not bothering to blink back the tears.

By the time she'd arrived at the bus station, she was barely panting -the running she did in the morning, sometimes with either or both dads, was clearly doing what she wanted it to do. In addition to the morning running, and weight lifting, she did yoga and pilates classes with Hiram and LeRoy respectively. She wanted to be agile, strong, and quick.

Gone were the singing lessons, gone were the dance classes -except one, that started this week, gone was piano lessons, gone was the intricate morning routine that was still in its infancy.

Every rehearsal, every moment on stage, every second she spent singing -it felt like she was being stabbed in the heart.

She was utterly _thriving_ in rehearsals and Connie introducing her to Ms. Pak was proof, hard tangible proof that she had _not_ been egotistical, fed with delusions of stardom from her father's since she was a toddler.

She, Rachel Berry was _meant_ to be a star.

And it was just her fate that this world had no _need_ of Broadway starlet's. It needed people who had what it took to survive what was coming.

Soon she was seated on the bus, posture and the way she sat a clear indication that she would not be welcoming of anyone sitting next to her.

She wiped at the last traces of tears on her face, adjusted her sweater, and pulled out a notebook to check her schedule.

Tomorrow she would join Miss Henrietta straight after school for a trip to the army surplus store, canning lessons and to work on Miss Henrietta's herb garden. She'd be home in time to make dinner for her dads, then after that she and LeRoy had pilates.

She needed to slip away from her great grandmother, or leave school a bit early tomorrow, to refill her supply of sleeping pills.

Twice.

Twice she dreamed such terrible dreams that she woke up her fathers in the middle of the night.

They were whispering about therapists -she did not start therapy until the summer before sophomore year, and had no plans to start it again, despite the looming apocalypse she was _fine_ , all things considering, so she decided to simply sleep lightly.

That lasted approximately six nights, before she gave up on that idea. It was unsustainable, and frankly foolish to purposely not get enough restful sleep she needed.

Rachel turned to sleeping pills, loath as she was to rely on them.

Often times she only ended up being needed for one of the rehearsals -Hiram was fastidious about ensuring she was needed to rehearse before she made her journey to Cleveland.

She was quite busy.

Sometimes, the guilt for wasting time with the musical made her chest tight. Yet...

She was enjoying it.

If she was honest, she was utterly thriving in the community theater environment. If the world wasn't going to end, she was learning so many things, honing skills, and making connections that would have surely set her on an easier path to Broadway.

It truly was like rubbing salt in a scarred wound -she was wasting her time with the musical, accomplishing nothing but torturing herself.

Sam kept reassuring her that it was okay if she did the musical, no one was going to be disappointed in her for doing something for herself like this.

His reassurances did not help much.

She made sure to speak to him at least once a week; often times the conversations did not last more than ten minutes, but she felt it was important that they keep in touch, they keep what connection they had. With Sam being so far separated from her, in distance, time, and their personal relationship such as it was, Rachel always felt moderately awkward speaking to him; the lingering guilt about Stacy's death, despite their conversation about it later where Sam had reassured her he did not blame her, did not help matters -even if sometimes in their conversation she could hear Stacy shrieking or giggling or otherwise making her presence known in the background. It added a surreal quality to Rachel's day, every time, because she could not escape seeing her finale image of Stacy out of the corner of her eye. It set her nerves on edge, ramped up her paranoia...she was trying to find the words to tell Sam, to ask him to find a more private place to speak to her, but she had yet to manage it.

She sighed as the bus started up, and pressed her forehead to the seat in front of her, pulling her sweater close to her.

* * *

Dr. Allen was dead.

Rachel had found several news articles about how Dr. Allen had suddenly veered into traffic while driving last year and crashed head first on into a road divider. She had died instantly. No drugs or alcohol had been found in her system, and the investigators had written it up to Dr. Allen having some unknown health issue, such as a seizure.

Rachel assumed Dr. Allen had come _back,_ and it was just unfortunate timing she had done so while driving.

Rachel blew a puff of hair that had loosened itself from one of her two Dutch braids, and darted her eyes to Hiram. He was next to her, red faced and glistening with a sheen of sweat and slightly wobbling as he struggled to stay balanced in a proper tree pose.

They attended yoga together twice a week, on Fridays at four (with Hiram leaving work early -one of the benefits of being your own boss) and Sundays at nine am. Her dads had insisted, when she'd dropped all her vocal lessons and dance classes except one, that she have some activity besides the musical -she had finally decided that unless something better presented itself, she would take pilates and yoga -one each with her dads so the classes could do double duty as bonding time.

She had greatly simplified her morning routine, and added running to it, and sometimes one or both of her dads joined her in that as well.

That past month had sped by quickly, and school would be out in two short weeks. Her schedule, even with the musical, would be much more flexible now, as her dads had decided at thirteen she was old enough to stay home alone while they worked, and she planned to take full advantage to complete tasks without a parent looking over her shoulder.

She was _quite_ busy. This was why she had yet to make contact with Sebastian -he had not logged into his Myspace account for months. June, likewise, was unavailable -short of making a trip to the compound she lived on, and Rachel was certainly not going to do that.

Miss Henrietta had taken her shooting yesterday afternoon -it had been lovely to have the rifle in her hands again. She was dreadfully out of practice, of course, however, not as badly as she could have been.

Miss Henrietta was a better shot then Rachel was. Which was, quite amazing considering the woman's age...of course, that could have been Rachel being ageist.

The piece of hair was in her face again, and once more she blew it away.

Finally, the instructor called out to them. Ten minutes later, a quickly showered Rachel was standing with Hiram waiting for LeRoy to pick them up. Rachel had Madam Luve's dance class next.

"Your father doesn't seem to notice, but perhaps you do -or perhaps I am simply imagining it," Hiram stared at Rachel expectantly, "You spend the most time with her. Does Starla seem stiffer and a bit slower to you?"

Rachel sighed, "Yes, actually." This was it, the beginning of Starla's end. In a few short months, she would have her stroke.

Hiram looked triumphant. "I knew it. We shall take her to the vet first thing Monday morning. Although, maybe a visit to the emergency vet tonight would be in order..."

"Daddy, I'm sure that would be unnecessary," Rachel said, her voice going thick with emotion, "She is simply...getting older," Rachel finished, sniffling a bit. She simply _hated_ not having much control over her emotions.

"Oh darling, Starla has years left, you're right I am sure. We'll take her in on Monday, I imagine she will just need some new vitamins or a supplement." Hiram wrapped an arm around her, and hugged her close.

* * *

Brittany gripped the string, and pulled it back, before letting go and sending her arrow soaring. It bounced off the target instead of sticking. Santana giggled.

"Please don't laugh at me Santana," Brittany pouted, and sighed, "I want to be really good at using this so I won't have to use a gun because I don't like them."

Santana grinned at her, "If the apocalypse happens I'll be like, a kick ass war lord. You'll always be welcome in my lands Brittany."

"What about Beth or Quinn or Rachel or Tina? And being a war lord would be too much paperwork, that's why Lord Tubbington quit."

"I have no idea who Beth or Quinn or Rachel are, Britts." Santana stepped forward, and shot her bow. The arrow landed halfway between them and the target. "Look, if the apocalypse happens, we can just get a lot of guns. Guns are way better."

Brittany shook her head, "Guns are loud, we'd need quiet sneaky stuff. I don't like them anyway."

Santana sighed, and put another arrow on her bow. She pulled it back, then let it go. It hit the edge of the target. Brittany felt a little better. Santana turned to her, "Look, if this is a super big deal to you, we can practice a lot. Somehow, we'll find the time."

"Maybe I can convince Coach Sylvester the Cheerios need to learn to learn to fight with a bow and arrow." Brittany frowned, wondering if that would work - Coach _did_ believe some weird things, it might work. The thought of all the Cheerios wielding bows like Amazons, even the boys, loosened up something in her chest that was always tight with worry.

"We haven't even made the team yet Brittany," Santana flicked her hair.

Brittany grinned at her. They would make the team, and it was a good plan. It was a plan that Rachel or Quinn would have come up with. Feeling much better now, Brittany made another shot, once more sticking it into the edge of the target, "How old do you think Tiffany should be before we teach her how to use one of these?"

"Um. Well, why don't we let her learn to speak in full sentences and junk first before we start talking about teaching her to use a bow?"

Brittany giggled, "Okay."

Santana smirked, then nodded down the line of targets, "That kid looks pretty young, however old he is."

Brittany looked, "He's like five? That seems okay."

Santana made another shot, getting closer to the center then before. She tossed a smirk at Brittany, then said, "I bet Hannah couldn't do that good."

"I don't know. She might, after some practice."

Santana frowned, then tossed her hair in a gesture that sent a pang of sadness through Brittany, "Patrick asked me out, I think I'm going to say yes. You know I loves me some Breadstix."

"He's a ginger Santana. You always say they have no souls."

" _Well, he doesn't need a soul to buy me dinner, does he?"_ Brittany wasn't a jealous person by nature, not really. She knew Santana was only doing this because she _was_ jealous. Or envious. Brittany always confused them. It was easy to remind herself that this Santana wasn't her Santana, not really, not yet.

Brittany shrugged, _"If you kiss him, you're going to wake up the next morning with red hair."_

Santana made a face at the thought, then took another shot before she said, "Your Spanish is like, way better. It's almost like you woke up one day and it clicked or something."

"No, I woke up one day with years more experience with it, from the future. Duh."

Santana rolled her eyes, "You don't have to keep talking like that when it's just me and you."

"It's true though. You'll see."

"Whatever. Dork."

"If I'm a dork, then I'm _your_ dork." She wanted so badly to tell Santana that she loved her, that she understood Santana wasn't ready to accept that part of herself -that she would _wait._ She wanted to tell Santana that she would wait, that if she was ready or not, she would force herself to admit out loud that she loved Brittany too once the world ended. That she told Brittany in thousands of ways before she said the words out loud.

"Yeah, you are." Santana trailed off, and clearly uncomfortable with what she just said, changed the subject. "Um. We have what, two months until Cheerio tryouts?"

"We have five weeks, that's like, way less than two months."

"I guess Hannah's okay enough she'll make the team with us," Santana took another shot, "Are you sure you're done with Motocross."

"Yeah. I'm like super good at it and I already won all the trophies I could for it so I don't need to do it anymore. Plus it was really loud."

"I'm going to miss going to your races though. You looked hella hot."

"You couldn't even see me, like me me with all my gear on."

"Still. I totally heard all kinds of guys and this one old dude saying how hot you were."

"Eww."

Santana snorted, "Yeah, I told him he was old enough to be your great grandma then asked if that was his white windowless van in the parking lot. He looked like he was going to cry, it was great."

"Speaking of vans, dad was talking to one of our neighbors about this goody van they've had sitting forever? He said they were selling it."

"The white and black VW down the road?"

"Yeah. So I'm thinking of asking if they'll buy it for me."

"You could fit a mattress in the back of it?" Santana had a slightly dreamy look on her face, that she must have realized she had because she quickly glared at the target, then shot it, and added, "or when we go shopping it'll hold like, everything."

Brittany liked the idea of having a van that would hold a lot of stuff and they could stay in if needed; she hadn't had her own car before.

"Yeah. I think it'd be fun to work on. I want to paint the black part pink."

"Mmm. I'd rather having someone topless." Santana blushed, "I mean, some _thing_ topless. Like a corvette."

"By the time I finish fixing it up, I'll be old enough to get my learner's permit."

"It'll be nice not to have to rely on people to give us rides."

"Yeah," Brittany grinned, " _I'm super excited to go to your grandma's for dinner."_

 _"I'm worried you're going to get lost, there's going to be so many people there."_ Santana replied.

 _"Does she like me?"_

 _"As much as she likes anyone, although I think she's warmed up slightly since you showed her that blanket you're knitting, she was impressed."_ Brittany was working on a knit blanket for Tiffany's bed. She had plans to make them all one. _"Um, that woman is staring at us. Do you think we look weird. Like do you think she thinks we're on a date or something? Like, maybe we look really butch?"_ Santana looked like she was about to toss her bow and arrows away, and go make out with the nearest guy.

Brittany turned to look at the woman, _"I know her. She knows me, that's why she's looking at us, she doesn't think we're super gay and half gay and going to be married one day or anything Santana."_

It was Terri.

For a second, Brittany debated with herself about saying anything to her, but then decided to go ahead and do it anyway. Even if she wasn't back like Brittany, it'd still be nice to talk to her.

"Let's go say hi to her," Brittany said, slinging her bow on and picking up her bag.

Santana had relaxed, a little. "Whatever. We should get going soon anyway. How do you know her?" Santana slung her own backpack on, and flicked her hair while making eye contact with some guy who was walking by. She winked at him, then pointedly didn't look at Brittany as they started walking towards Terri."

"She's just a friend."

"Why are you friends with an old lady?"

"She's not old. Or not that old anyway." Terri looked way younger then Brittany remembered, she was a little plumper too -they all were, though, but some of Terri's harshness had softened and she was definitely slightly less high strung looking.

"Brittany?" Terri asked hesitantly.

"Terri!" Brittany dropped her things, and rushed forward, engulfing Terri in a hug. She wasn't alone! It wasn't on her, and her alone to figure out how to help everyone!

"Santana, this is Terri Del Monico," Brittany said when she pulled apart from Terri, "Terri, this is Santana. She doesn't know you yet."

"I see," Terri looked Santana over, then turned to Brittany, "And it's Schuester, remember Brittany? I'm married," she flashed the ring at both teens, then Terri cleared her throat, and nodded at Santana.

"Um, Santana, can you go to the front desk and ask when the next archery competition is?" Brittany said.

Santana gave her a suspicious look, "That's going to take like, ten minutes, there's a long ass line."

"I know. I want to talk to Terri about Lord Tubbington's surprise party, but I can't do that with you standing here because he knows you so well he'll figure it out just by looking at you."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Brittany, "Whatever, I wanted to flirt with that guy anyway."

Brittany sighed at Santana walked away, then turned to Terri. "You're you, right?"

"Well, who else would I be Brittany?" Terri shook her head, "How long have you been back?"

"210 days."

"I see. I've been back over two years now."

"Why didn't you look for any of us?"

"Well, I was busy ensuring my marriage is strong...and then, I found out I was pregnant."

"Really?"

Terri nodded.

"Wasn't that scary?"

"Yes. But also much easier this time, given that my only company wasn't teenagers, I was able to give birth in a hospital, and we aren't constantly terrorized by flesh eating monsters. Oliver is a twelve months old, and he's just amazing. Will is a great father." Terri smiled, and it made her face light up. "But of course, being a wife and mother is not all I've been doing. I went back to school -nursing. I've also dropped all my crafting hobbies in favor of much more practical ones, namely guns and the bow, and I'm considering learning to throw knives."

Brittany looked at her in awe, "That's so cool. You're like, Rambo, except a mom. Mombo?"

"Well, I'm not doing it to be cool Brittany, but thank you. I decided that if I was bringing a child into this world, knowing what was going to happen, then I was going to do my best to ensure he or she survived, even if that means going back to school or never scrap booking again."

"What's Mr. Schue think? Did you...tell him?"

"Don't be silly, of course I didn't tell him. That's a one way ticket to being hospitalized with the crazies, and letting that red haired husband stealing neat freak tell my child she's his new mommy. No, Will simply thinks motherhood has changed me a bit. He's willing to go hunting with me, so we bond that way, and I've encouraged him to take up fishing again."

Brittany bounced happily on her toes, "We should get each others phone numbers, and talk and plan and -"

"Do keep in mind I am in school most of the week, and when I am not in school I'm studying or doing homework in addition to my time at the shooting range or here," Terri smiled that odd smile she was always giving Brittany before, "And that I have a toddler and a husband, so we'll have to schedule things carefully. I'm not sure that _we_ will be able to accomplish much more then what we are already done." She reached into her large purse, and pulled out a notepad. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, (Terri frowned as she realized Brittany didn't have a cell phone yet), and by the time Santana came back, Terri was gone.

"That guy was such a nerd," Santana declared, "He sooo wasn't worth the time. Is your weird adult friend gone?"

"Yeah. Should we go too?"

"Nah, your dad won't be here for another twenty minutes to pick us up, I checked the time at the desk," Santana hesitated, then added, looking up at Brittany through her lashes "Can you help me with my stance?"

Brittany wanted to tell Santana she wasn't fooling Brittany, this was just an excuse to get closer, but she bit her tongue. Literally, lightly, not hard enough to draw blood or anything.

Tongue tingling with pain, she nodded quietly.

She didn't want to scare Santana away forever, but it was so hard not to fall back into old routines, old mannerism, casual touches and words. She sighed, and picked up her things at her feet, "Let's go? I think we forgot to pick up our arrows anyway."

Santana started talking about American Idol, and Brittany tuned her out. She already knew who was going to win, so it wasn't hard to pretend to be listening.

Her first dance class with Rachel was today. It was going to be the first real thing she was going to change -being friends with Rachel before high school started.

It was also going to be the hardest, because she and Rachel weren't really all that close or anything, and if she was being _really_ honest, she hadn't really liked Rachel as a person before the world ended. Like, at all.

After a lot of thinking about it, she'd decided that she and Rachel hadn't even been friends when they'd died. Family, yes, friends, no.

Rachel was like the second cousin who was related to her but not closely so it was still legal for her to marry Brittany's sister. Her sister, in this scenario, being Quinn. Who was like, Santana's step sister so it was okay that Brittany married Santana because they weren't related.

She'd made a chart, and everything, and all the lines had gotten really tangly.

The point was, it was a good thing Brittany was a super good actress, because Rachel Berry before the zombies hadn't been a person Brittany liked, so it was going to be a lot of effort for her to be friends with her.

"Are you sure you can't skip your dance class? Do you really need it?"

"Positive. Lord Tubbington will hide my pillows."

"But we could go see Iron Man."

Brittany shook her head, her pony tail whipping around, "No. I'll see you tomorrow for practice with Hannah and then I'm going to dinner with you, we'll have lots of time together. And even more when summer's here."

Santana frowned, staring at the ground as they walked, and finally nodded. "Can't you tell Hannah it's canceled?"

"Noo, she needs the practice too. So does Tina, but not as much and she's got a family thing all week anyway."

"It just seems like we never spend any time together without one or both of them," Santana grumbled, then glared at an older guy who was about to step into 'their' archery course.

"We are laterally together without anyone right now," Brittany said as the guy silently shrugged, and kept walking, "Now come here, and I'll help fix your posture."

Santana brightened up a little, and grinned so that her braces were fully visible, which she only did when she was really happy, " _Literally_ , Brittany...Do you want to come over for Memorial day next week? We can just swim and listen to music, it should be warm enough, and we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Maybe? I'm not sure if mom and dad have plans for us, but it sounds good." Brittany gestured for Santana to turn around, and once she did, Brittany cuddled close to her. She missed this so much. She helped arranged Santana's arms, then they both pretended that it was vital for Brittany to stand so close behind Santana for a second, a moment of mutual pretending, before she stepped back and let Santana shoot her arrow.

She hit the target, just barely. Brittany bounced up and down, clapping as Santana notched another arrow clumsily, her eyes on Brittany's chest.

Watching Santana trying to be subtle, and utterly failing, about watching Brittany's boobs made Brittany feel a little less nervous about seeing and befriending Rachel later, even as a fresh ache for _her_ Santana went through her.

* * *

She scribbled in her notebook, and before she knew it, the changing room was nearly empty.

Just she and Brittany, actually.

She was closing her locker when Brittany approach, nervously fiddling with the straps of her dance tote, a shy grin on her face as her eyes darted back and forth in the room.

"Hi, I'm Brittany S. Pierce and my cat, Lord Tubbington, deleted the message I left for my dad to pick me up," Brittany said, "Can you give me a ride? I'd leave another message, but I'm pretty sure Lord Tubbington would just delete it again. He's on an anti-technology kick. You're Rachel Berry, right? Madam Luve told me if I get confused I should watch you."

Rachel frowned up at her, confused. This did not happen before, she was certain. She took a moment to adjust her sweater.

"Rachel? Is that you?" Brittany asked softly, her dance tote slipped from her fingers.

"I was quite certain we did not share this class," Rachel said softly, not quite sure she believed this was real.

"We didn't, I dropped it because I was busy with getting ready for Cheerio's and Madam Luve said she'd taught me everything she could," Brittany grinned, "But I took it this time because I wanted to be friends with you so that you wouldn't be bullied so badly this time."

Rachel grinned up at her. They stared at each other for a moment, before Rachel stood up, and wrapped her arms around the taller girl.

"Um. I'm really glad you're you," Brittany said as they hugged, "I like _you_ a lot better than the before before you."

Rachel had quite forgotten Brittany had not liked her. Then again, most people did not.

"Can you come over to my house? I wasn't lying about not having a ride, and my parents are doing a thing later so I'll have to babysit and can't come over to your house?"

Rachel nodded, "I do not think that should be an issue, as long as one of my dads can meet your parents first."

Brittany smiled, and nodded. She slung an arm around Rachel's shoulders, and gave her another squeeze. "I'm seriously glad you're back. Today has been a really good day, I found out Terri's back too."

"She is? How is she?" Certain things Rachel wished to accomplish would be much easier with an adult available.

"Like really good. She's got a toddler with Mr. Schue, and she's in college to be a nurse and she's learning to use a bow too. You should also, it's way better then a gun."

"Papa and Daddy should be here soon, let's go meet them in front?" Rachel stepped away, and picked up her bag, "I agree, though, it will be beneficial to use a bow. I will inform Sam to do so as well."

"Sam's back too?"

"Yes..." Rachel licked her lips, unsure how to say it, before deciding not to sugar coat it, "He came back when he was seven...the result is that he has an extra sibling, and Stevie was never born."

Brittany stared at Rachel as she picked up her bag, "That is so sad. I feel really bad for him. Like I can't even imagine if I butterfly effected Tiffany out of the world."

"He says that he doesn't feel that bad about it -that Stevie feels like a book character at this point," Rachel sighed, "I am unsure if he was telling the truth when he told me that, or not."

Brittany nodded, leading them out of the changing room towards the front of the building. They waved at Madam Luve as they passed her, and she gave them a little wave back as she spoke rapidly into her phone in French.

"If Santana were here," Brittany sighed, "She'd be able to really get him to open up."

"I wish we were all here, it would make things much more simpler," Rachel adjusted her bag, then nodded at the approaching vehicle, "That would be my dads."

"They are like, _really_ puncture."

"We both know you mean punctual Brittany. Please do not pretend to be dumb. I know you are not, and while I am sure you have your reasons for doing so, I ask that you do not when it is just me and you, or with the others." Rachel frowned at Brittany.

Brittany stared at her, then nodded once as the car parked in front of them, and the passenger window rolled down.

"Rachel," Hiram sang out to her, "Great news darling! You do not need to be at rehearsals tomorrow!"

"That is excellent Daddy!" Rachel chirped, then gestured elegantly at Brittany, "This is Brittany Pierce. We will be going to the same high school next year. If you and her parents find it acceptable, may we have a sleepover at her house tonight?" Rachel was grateful she did not have to lie -it was difficult to do to her dads, and she was nearly certain half the time they could tell anyway.

"I have to babysit my little sister, otherwise we could totally do it at your house, Rachel said you have a basement. Basements are really cool, I wish we had one." Brittany added.

Her fathers exchanged quick glances, silently communicating in a way that made Rachel wish for Quinn, and for the time for them to _have_ that kind of connection. Then Hiram nodded, "I think that can be arranged."

"Oh, um, can I have a ride home too? Sorry." Brittany added.

LeRoy nodded, and the girls quickly climbed into the backseat.

Rachel could not stop thinking about how they had gone from two, to _four_. This would mean they needed to arrange a time for the four of them, obviously with Sam on the telephone, to meet up. Now that it was more then she and Sam, they could really start planning. Brittany's suggestion of them learning to use a bow was a good one -the brief time Rachel had used one before she had appreciated their practicality.

Soon, after Brittany gave directions, they were pulling in front of her house.

"Mom, dad, I brought home Berrys!" Brittany called as they followed her into the house.

" _What_ did you bring home Brittany?" A frowning strawberry blonde woman asked, presumably Brittany's mother, "Oh, hello. I'm Whitney Pierce, my husband Stephan is still getting ready."

"I'm LeRoy, this is my husband Hiram Berry." All three Berry's watched Whitney's face closely as he sad that, then LeRoy added, "And this is our daughter, Rachel." Introducing Rachel was a good indicator that he felt Brittany's mom was not going to have an issue with the Berry family.

"Mom, can Rachel help me watch Tiffany and sleep over?"

"Well...I suppose, if it's okay with her dads. No one else though, even Santana."

"Okay."

"Is it okay Daddy, Papa?" Rachel gave them her best 'please please please' look. It still felt rusty to use.

They shared another look, and then finally LeRoy said, "Well, I suppose since it's okay with Brittany's parents."

"Is Rachel allergic to anything?" Whitney asked.

"No, she is not. Um, darling, why don't we head home so you can get your sleepover things," Hiram suggested. A burst of love went through her for him at his words -he knew full well as she did this was her first and only sleep ever.

"Rachel can totally just wear some of my things, even if she's almost little person short," Brittany said.

Rachel had almost missed the subtle putdowns from Brittany that had tapered off as time went on, all but disappearing after the ordeal she and Tina had returned to them. _Almost._

"I am quite okay with borrowing some of Brittany clothing," Rachel pulled her bag close, and wondered if this was a mistake.

She did not _know_ Brittany's parents, and this was her first sleep over -what if she did something wrong? What if the batteries weren't working on the fire alarms?

A tiny blonde toddler sped into the room on wobbly legs, "Brttttt!" She shouted, and Brittany scoped her up.

"This is my sister Tiffany," she introduced her to Rachel's dads, "She is almost smarter than my cat, Lord Tubbington. He keeps trying to get her to drink coffee so she'll stay tiny forever."

Her dads shared another look, another one that Rachel could not quite decipher.

"If you're sure you will be okay Rachel..."

"I will be fine. I love you both very much," Rachel dropped her bag, and gave each of her dads a hug, "Perhaps you could go see the movie you were thinking about seeing for date night -have an unscheduled date night."

"An unscheduled date night, as if we were young men again," Hiram smiled at LeRoy.

"We are still young men Rammy, we have full heads of hair to prove it," LeRoy reached over, and took Hiram's hand. A warm feeling went through her as she watched them. Goodness, she loved them so much -how could she have ever thought she'd feel this way about Shelby? That she deserved to feel this way about a third person, when she already had two amazing parents? What a selfish child she had been before.

After saying yet another round of goodbyes, then being introduced to Brittany's father, and Hiram receiving just a few more reassurances that Rachel would be okay, then a final round of goodbyes, Hiram trying to linger before LeRoy whispered something to him, still holding hands, her dads left.

"We should be going too dear, " Stephan Pierce said, then turned to Brittany, "Don't let Tiffany stay up late this time Brittany."

"She and Lord Tubbington played poker after I went to bed."

Rachel watched Brittany's mom frown, sigh, then started listing a laundry list of orders for Brittany, half of which was just common sense. Rachel had no idea how anyone, especially her own mother, could not see just how intelligent Brittany was.

Finally, the adult Pierces left. "Um. Come on, I'll show you my room." Brittany said, and still holding her sister, starting walking upstairs.

Rachel grabbed Brittany's bag as well as her own, and followed her.

Soon, they were seated on Brittany's very beige carpet staring at each other. Tiffany happily banged some blocks together next to them, making noises that were almost full words, with the occasional real word thrown in. Rachel watched the toddler for a minute, "It is quite odd to see her now, and remember her as a fully fledged child."

"Kids do that. They grow up." Brittany leaned back against the pale floral wallpaper covered wall, "Or at least, they usually do."

Rachel looked away, and closed her eyes.

Dahlia giggling and tugging at Blaine's hair.

Christopher snuggled close to Rachel as they slept.

Beth glaring at Quinn.

Abby obediently fetching a toy Santana tossed for her.

Tiffany curled up with Lord Tubbington, coloring.

Kyle and Stevie playing chess.

Leah being passed from person to person as the rest of them tried to let Terri get some sleep.

Sarah with her Hebrew to English dictionary, diligently copying down words in a pretty notebook Santana got for her.

Stacy's corpse, skin already starting to turn red, black fluid leaking from her mouth and eyes, snarling as she reached out to claw at Stevie.

Bringing the hatchet down onto her, blood and other fluids flying around.

Rachel took in a deep breath, and opened her eyes, never more glad that she didn't dream any more. Except she realized, with a sinking feeling, that she had no sleeping pills with her.

"Rachel?"

"I was just thinking about -well, about them all," Hesitantly, she added, "..I do not suppose there's any sleeping pills available?"

"Um. I think there's some in my parents bathroom."

"Do you think they'd notice if I had some so I may sleep tonight?"

"Do you use them a lot? That doesn't seem like a good idea."

"I needed a way to sleep without nightmares, without waking up in the middle of the night because I heard a sound and for a second thought it was a zombie breaking in." The words are said in a rush, simply because she's so glad to have someone besides Sam to speak about it too -not that she does, much, because she is not quite comfortable with him enough to do so.

"I was like that for a bit too, but my therapist really helped."

"Therapist?" Rachel stared at Brittany incredulous, "How on earth did you explain anything to a therapist."

Brittany shrugged, and handed a block that had gotten tossed away back to her sister, "I didn't explain it, not really? I pretended that I had a past life as a soldier."

"And that worked? Your therapist didn't question it?"

"No, she didn't. What are we going to do?"

"Well, we should call Sam, and also Terri, and set up a meeting, and discuss it from there? I am sure we all have a rough idea of what should be done."

"Okay. Terri's really busy though."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rachel trying not to think about the momentous tasks before them when Brittany said, "You should try out for the Cheerios with me," Lord Tubbington ambled away from Tiffany towards Rachel, a purring monster insistent on head butting her.

"I..." Rachel could not picture herself as a Cheerio. Before, she would have said she was simply above waving pom poms around. She fended off the cat, not knowing what to say.

"It's a good idea. Coach Sylvester is a great coach, and you'll be in super good shape. It's the closest thing to military training we'll find. Plus, if you're a part of the Cheerio's, you'll be friends with the Cheerio's -and when the time comes, we can have the Cheerio's and their families come with us."

"Do we need an army of Cheerleaders? That's more people to save, more people to feed and shelter."

"Are you worried you can't make the team? Because you totally can, I can train you. I've been training Hannah and Tina?"

"Tina? Like, Tina _Tina?"_

Brittany nodded, "She wanted to join them, anyway...and I, um, well, I missed her."

"I am sure it must have been difficult, given how close the two of you were, to be without her as well as the rest of us."

"It was."

The silence sat between them, then Brittany asked, "Have you decided what classes your taking next year?"

"I gave it quite a bit of thought, but ultimately decided to keep the same classes instead of attempting a higher difficultly level -and with the hopes that switching to Spanish instead of French, it will be more useful."

"I can totally help you with Spanish -I'm not very good at reading it, but I can talk it like really great." Brittany added something in Spanish Rachel didn't quite catch

Rachel sighed, "I think you said...something about Santana?"

"Close. Um, kinda. I said I want Santana here because she's way better at teaching Spanish. _My_ Santana."

"So..." Rachel trailed off. Finally, she said, "Do you want me to call Sam?"

Brittany brightened, and nodded.

Fifteen minutes later, Rachel found herself rolling a ball back and forth with Tiffany while Brittany chattered with Sam. She was doing a very good job of stuffing down the feeling of envy that the conversation came so easily to the two of them. At least, she thought as she caught the ball, Lord Tubbington liked her. The cat was currently curled up against her leg, purring, watching them play with half lidded eyes.

Why did people not like her? Even _now,_ with years more maturity and understanding of her flaws?

Lord Tubbington was acting quite a lot like himself, not how she'd expect an almost adult kitten to act.

She froze, and brow furred, stared at the cat. No. There was no utter way this was the _same_ Lord Tubbington.

She rolled the ball back, not taking her eyes off the cat.

Of course, he _had_ been on the ship the same as them.

"Bye Sam!" Brittany put her hand over the receiver, and asked Rachel, "Do you need to say bye?"

"No, you may tell him I say goodbye, and to have a good game tomorrow."

Brittany did so, and once she'd hung up, Rachel asked her, "Have you noticed anything odd about your cat?"

"Like that he's from the future too? Yes. It's really nice. I'm teaching him new things now because he knows all the stuff from before already."

"Oh." Rachel is not surprised that Brittany had already known Lord Tubbington was time traveler as well -Brittany was quite smart even if she hid it well.

So there was five of them, instead of four.

Brittany joined into their game of ball rolling. They did not talk to each other, simply speaking encouragement to Tiffany, who was soaking up the attention of them both.

Rachel stifled her urge to sigh, and wished Brittany was Santana instead.

Santana was not very nice, even if sometimes Rachel thought they were friends of sorts, and she would certainly take the opportunity to insult Rachel at every turn, but at least there would be no awkward silences because they did not have anything to really say to each other.

Rachel rolled the ball to Tiffany again, and wondered if it would be wrong of her to prank Santana.

"Do you remember the prank war Santana and I had?" She finally asked Brittany.

"It was really more of a prank tit a tat then a war."

"I suppose you are correct..." For a change of pace, she bounced the ball twice to Tiffany, who giggled. "Do you think it would be unfair to prank her? Never mind, forget I asked, it's silly to focus on that when there's more important things."

Brittany shook her head, "I think it would be mean to do it before she's here. I don't think it's silly to want to do it. We're teenagers. We should be having fun and doing silly things."

"Don't you-"

"We can't focus on the future every second. That is literally impossible." Brittany interrupted. She stated, "New rule. We need to have fun, and let go. You and Quinn are going to have a lot of trouble doing that, so it's a rule. We all have to have fun and be teenagers while we can."

"I suppose," Rachel said slowly, "That is an acceptable rule."

Brittany nodded, "It super is."

"Well, in the name of that," Rachel said, a plan forming, "I am sure Santana already told you, but while you were missing, she kissed me. Then, upon being informed that Quinn and I were in a relationship, offered to join us in a threesome. I am-"

"She was totally messing with you. And I know, she told me."

"And you aren't upset?"

"Mostly I was sad that she was so sad she would kiss _you_. It was a long time ago, well, it will be, except not because it won't happen."

Rachel nodded, " I did not quite get Santana back, and Quinn refused to retaliate for anything, even after Santana hid all our underwear...if you are willing, and assuming that Santana does not experience adverse effects when she comes back, if you don't mind helping me play a prank on her..."

Brittany considered for a moment, then nodded.

They worked out the details, including if Quinn came back first, and after ten minutes of discussion, Rachel ended the conversation with, "Well I'm sure that level of detail will not be needed Brittany."

Brittany shook her head, "No, Santana's totally going to ask because she's super going to think we're messing with her." Brittany stood, then picked up Tiffany, "It's time to feed her. Are you hungry?"

"I could certainly eat," Rachel stood up, and together, the trio went downstairs.

* * *

After they fed Tiffany, and ate some leftovers for dinner, they called Terri and arranged for her to visit in the morning after Brittany's parents left for brunch with some friends.

After dinner, they took care of Tiffany, caught each other up on their going ons and Brittany wore Rachel down enough that not only did Rachel agree to try out for Cheerios, she let Brittany start teaching her the basic movements. Then Brittany insisted they watch a movie, before they retired to her room.

Rachel woke up at her usual time, by now it was a habit, and insisted Brittany join her for a run.

Soon, Terri arrived. Sam had a football game, and asked the one of them call him later to update him, and that they tell Terri he said hi.

"Rachel," Terri gave her a one armed hug, and introduced her to the curly haired toddler in her arms, "This is Oliver."

"Hello Oliver," Rachel said, smiling at him. He hid his face in Terri's chest shyly.

"Hi Terri! This is my sister Tiffany." Brittany set Tiffany down -who was thoroughly uninterested in Terri and Oliver, and more interested in a light up ball she held in her hands.

They made small talk for a few minutes, catching up before Terri looked at the delicate gold watch on her wrist, "I have a study group at ten, so perhaps we could sit down and make some real plans?"

They gathered at the kitchen table, already loaded with drinks, snacks, notebooks and pencils.

Terri and Brittany looked expectantly at Rachel -it took Rachel a moment to say anything...she had somewhat gotten used to not being the one in charge, due to her age, even if some of the adults in her life let her lead the way.

"Well, obviously, you two, and I soon, shall be learning to use the bow. Terri, Brittany mentioned you have guns?"

"Yes," Terri yawned, then sipped at her coffee, "I have a small collection that I'm growing larger bit by bit and I go shooting as often as possible."

"Okay. That is great -don't forget to have ample amounts of ammo as well. I will start shooting too, assuming I can convince my dads," Rachel sighed, "At the moment, besides practicing our weapons, we need to focus on a piece of property we can mold into our specifications planting fruit trees and bushes and such now."

"What about the cabin?" Brittany asked.

"It belongs to the Jones family." Rachel pointed out.

"Oh, right."

"What about money," Terry said, then set Oliver down from her lap. He tentatively veered slowly on wobbly legs towards Tiffany and the light up ball she was rolling to Lords Tubbington, giggling when it bounce off him back to her. He stood and watched, and the trio waited for a moment to see if either toddler would have a problem -when it seemed like Oliver was content to watch while Tiffany ignored him, their conversation resumed.

"Between your student loans and my bat mitzvah money -I took it out of the myspace investments I had it in, and put them in stocks I know will be profitable shortly. Or, at least I will once the stock market crashes in September. Likewise, we should take our time and not buy any property until after that point."

"Can I get a list of those stocks? I considered it, but realized I had no idea where to start. It will considerably ease William's mind if we started winning at the stock market." Terri took another sip of her coffee.

"Of course." Rachel neatly wrote out the stocks that would be best to buy, and when to sell them, on her notepad then ripped out the page and handed it to Terri. LeRoy and Hiram had many investments, and had encouraged Rachel to start doing so as at a young age. Of course, she'd lost all her money since she'd put it into myspace, and her dads had taken quit a hit when the stock market crashed...she had not managed to convince them to rearrange or sell anything, so they will still take that hit.

"So what are we looking for?" Brittany asked.

"Many acres -we will need enough space to farm and grow, and that will require land."

"It shouldn't be too close to any of the cities," Brittany pointed out, nibbling on a cookie. She stopped chewing, and added, "If Santana was here she'd insist on taking over a walmart warehouse."

"Not enough space, all that canned food wouldn't last forever." Terri stared at Rachel, "I am afraid I must insist, Rachel, that we put a cinder block fence -a thick, tall cinder block fence, around the property. No matter how large it is."

"Terri, that will be incredibily costly, and it will attract oodles of attention from those looking for a safe haven," Rachel protested.

"I know. But do you realize how easy we will rest knowing that there is no way those things will enter our home and eat our _babies_ in their _sleep_?" Terri's voice started going shrill, "I am willing to negotiate on the moat, but if there is no cinder block fence then I will buy a property near the one you choose, and make it _safe_ myself, even if I have to build it brick by brick by _hand._ "

"I really like the idea of a moat." Brittany added.

"Terri, no. It will take so long to build, and we can't possibly do it ourselves -that's...miles? Of fencing depending on how large of a property we get, and I was thinking of at least two hundred acres. No, we simply cannot." Rachel shook her head for emphasis, "It will be costly, and-"

"So how do you propose we defend our property?" Terri interrupted, setting her coffee mug down and leaning back in the chair, crossing her arms.

"I have yet to think much about it that step, but perhaps an electric fence. We could go high tech in our defenses and-"

"No. Simpler is better. Think castles, think those old time forts. I have had a lot of time to think about this, Rachel. And of your arguments against it, if you decided to be a fool." Terri stared her down, "We will simply time the construction of the fence well -it should be finished roughly in August 2011, with us doing what we can to promise the construction workers full payment after it's complete. Then we simply do not pay -by the end of September, it won't matter. Or, now that we can effectively play the stock market, we pay them whatever it takes. As for it being noticeable -we can disguise it with bamboo and thorny fruiting bushes. It shouldn't be hard to find a bamboo that grows thick and tall."

"It's a really good idea Rachel," Brittany stared at her too, then looked down at the table, "I don't want to lose my sister again, I want us to be safe in our home."

Rachel sighed, "Fine. Whatever property we find, no matter the size, we will have a cinder block fence built around it. Our home should be safe."

"Thick and tall fence." Terri's gone less shrill.

"A thick and tall fence," Rachel amended.

"I still really like the idea of a moat," Brittany said.

They discussed things, such as fruit trees and bow hunting and solar power and yurts until Terri looked at her watch, and said she had to go.

"I hope I can count on you two to babysit? Will and I haven't had a date night since he was born, I just don't trust anyone..." Terri asked as she gathered Oliver up from where he'd been playing with Tiffany's toys.

"Of course, I would be happy to babysit for you Terri," Rachel said. She watched as Lord Tubbington stood up from where he'd been laying down the entire time near Tiffany, and rubbed himself against Terri's legs.

"Me too. You wouldn't even need to pay us," Brittany called out.

"Yes, we can just exchange the same money over and over in case Mr. Schue thinks it odd we will work for free." Rachel added and walked Terri and Oliver to the front door. Terri agreed that's a good idea, and after saying goodbyes, with one last hug, Terri and Oliver were gone.

"Santana and Hannah are going to be here soon," Brittany said once Rachel came back, "Do you want to borrow something?"

"I will simply wear my dance leotard, but shorts would be nice."

"Okay."

* * *

This Santana was not as quick with the insults as their Santana. Nor was she quite as mean -although she was somewhat mean.

She does not like Rachel either -Rachel is certain Hannah does not as well, as both girls keep finding excuses to pull Brittany aside to talk to her privately. And when Rachel excused herself to use the restroom, when she returned she finds them surrounding Brittany speaking rapidly to her.

It hurt.

If she was braver, she would ask Brittany what they were saying about her, why they did not like her.

Sometimes, though, you can allow yourself to be cowardly, so Rachel doesn't ask. Finally, their practice has ended and Rachel is able to escape.

"My father is here Brittany. Santana, Hannah, it was lovely to meet you." Rachel said. She clutched at her bag, feeling awkward and lonely. Santana is looking at her like Rachel is something nasty she stepped in -it could be envy, as Rachel, despite only giving cheerleading a serious thought yesterday, is nearly at Santana's level. She attributed that to years of gymnastics and dance classes, and an ability to learn things quickly.

Of course, Santana _could_ be upset that Rachel had spent the night with Brittany, and despite how awkward she and Brittany could be with one another -there was a familiarity and a way to them that made them work well together.

Both, Rachel decided.

"Bye Rachel," Brittany hugged her.

"Come on Brittany," Santana grabbed Brittany's hand, hitting Rachel's shoulder as she did so, "Let's help Hannah work on her jumps before my cousin comes to pick us up."

"Please be more careful Santana," Rachel rubbed at her shoulder, then, unable to resist, she added, "I keep razor blades in my hair, I would hate to have to use them on you."

Brittany giggled. Santana glared at Rachel harder, and Hannah looked like maybe she didn't _totally_ dislike Rachel.

Rachel knew she should not mess with Santana, it was immature and unfair, and certainly should not use the other girl's lines, but once or twice it would not hurt, she decided as she greeted LeRoy and entered the Berry family car.

* * *

Time passed, and school ended. Soon, Rachel found herself exiting Mrs. Lopez's vehicle after the quartet arrived at McKinley for the first day of try outs.

She was not that concerned -she was fairly certain she would make the team, and if she did not, fine.

She had more pressing items on her mind, such as the fact that Terri had announced to them last week she was pregnant again. That was really the only thing of note to happen in the last month.

She had not gotten much closer to Santana, which was a combination of Rachel not being able to not totally resist needling her, and Santana's jealously at Rachel and Brittany's friendship, but Hannah seemed to tolerate her. Tina liked her, at least, even if she was somewhat shy.

It made her miss Sebastian fiercely, and it was frustrating she could not track him down. She had finally found his Aunt's word of mouth only work number, and was calling first thing Monday.

This week the musical had it's opening night on Friday, and Rachel planned to drop out of it. She had originally decided to do so shortly after Brittany convinced her to try out for the Cheerios, but Brittany and Sam had convinced her to stick it out, and at least have her opening night.

She was _not_ looking forward to the conversation with her dads -it would be much worse after they see her opening night because she would be amazing. They had mixed feelings about her trying out for cheerleading as well.

Rachel spent as much time as possible with Starla, knowing she had mere weeks with the dog left -Rachel brought her everywhere, including to Brittany's house. Lord Tubbington loved cuddling up with the Pomeranian on Brittany's bed. Brittany said he must know the elderly dog did not have much time left, because he wouldn't cuddle like that with the German Sheppard Pit-bull mix puppy Brittany had gotten after winning a bet about grades with her parents.

Rachel and Santana had bonded _slightly_ over the fact that they did not like Brittany's parents. Brittany's parents had readily agreed to the same bet, with the same reward -another puppy, if Brittany managed to get straight A's again all year. Brittany had also, somehow, talked her dad into buying her a VW van, which was nice as Brittany would be able to drive much sooner than Rachel.

She saw Quinn, and she could not breath as she stared at her. Frannie was with her, and Rachel turned and nodded slightly at them to Brittany.

Brittany frowned, "That's Frannie."

"Yes."

"What are we going to do about her?"

"I am not sure, I am not even sure we need to do anything about her at all Brittany."

Hannah joined them so Rachel and Brittany stopped talking. Santana and her mother were still in the car, speaking rapidly in Spanish.

Frannie Harris was something to discuss at their next meeting, not now. Rachel wasn't even sure they had to "deal" with her, just simply avoid her, and possibly see about stocking up on massive amounts of whatever medications Frannie was on.

Rachel turned her attention back to Quinn. She felt like a woman weak in the ocean, near drowning, who had finally reached land.

Quinn Fabray, here and in the flesh. Rachel had tried her best not to think about Quinn -she missed her dreadfully, and it _hurt_. And if she let herself, all her insecurities about Quinn and their relationship rose to the top, bypassing all the good.

It was silly of her, of course. Quinn Fabray was not only a Cheerio, she was _head_ Cheerio -Rachel would be dealing with her, forced to think of her, on what would likely be a daily basis.

Santana slammed the door, making Rachel jump at the sound.

Quinn _distracted_ her. Heart pounding, she turned to glare at Santana.

Santana realized all three other girls attention was on her, she smirked, then said, "Let's go show these bitches who's boss."

* * *

 **A/N:** Woohoo, Terri!

Full sentences in italics are Spanish -I've decided I'm not going to torture my Spanish speaking readers with google translate. :)

It's now August 2008. Expect more slight time jumps here and there -sometimes, there's just simply not much going on for the gang that's worth adding to an already too long chapter.

As always, signed in reviewers will receive a sneak peek of the next chapter.

Be sure to follow me on tumblr gee13 for writing tips, story stuff, and chapter updates.


	4. Some Nights

Brittany elbowed her gently, which was not saying much considering Rachel was certain Brittany's elbows were sharper that most people's. "You're staring at Quinn again," Brittany, whispered, leaning down so close her nose was nearly touching Rachel's ear.

Rachel was uncomfortable with being this close to Brittany. Unfortunately, it was the only way to get any measure of privacy. Coach Sylvester had herded - _literally_ , all the freshmen hopefuls into an area roughly the size of three parking lot spaces, and was eliminating anyone who stepped out of the boundaries.

"I am aware. I am just concerned about her and I have _so_ many questions. Why is Frannie here in Ohio so soon? Why Frannie and not her mother? And -"

Brittany interrupted her, "And now you're doing that rambling thing. Maybe you should go talk to her right now, she might find it adorable. I bet if I twist a little, you can move towards her if you're willing to elbow people. Or you can wait till more are eliminated. And it shouldn't be too much longer till Coach Sue moves onto the next stage. Me and Santana didn't talk to Quinn until the lunch break."

"I am _not_ adorable. And I would not even know what to say," Rachel hissed. She took several deep breathes, then sighed, "I know how difficult it is with," her eyes darted to Santana, whose frown was growing as they continued to whisper to each other, "but at least she _knows_ you."

Santana, _clearly_ unable to stand the fact that Rachel and Brittany were whispering so closely to each other, elbowed a girl hard in an effort to get towards them. This started a ripple effect of movement throughout the crowded cheerleading hopefuls, ending with four girls and a guy falling over the boundary.

Before any of them could say anything, Coach Sylvester blew her whistle and yelled, "Welcome to the next stage freshmen. You have five minutes - I suggest you hydrate! You five, you couldn't hack it, go!" Then she rambled some implausible situation about needing water at some point in her past before finally being silent.

Rachel was hardly thirsty from standing there in the early morning sun. As she followed closely behind Brittany and Santana, she tried desperately to think through things she could safely ask Quinn about. Once they were standing next to their belongings, she watched as the blonde girl joined Frannie. The way Quinn sipped at her water as she listened intently to Frannie speak, the way the blonde girl licked the water drops off her mouth before she replied to her sister.

"Rachel," Brittany whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her own water bottle in her hand, "Drink some of your water bottle, like half. Sue's going to cut anyone who doesn't hydrate properly."

"Truly? Brittany, that is _ridiculous_. This whole thing is a _circus,"_ Rachel grabbed her canteen -from the army surplus store, and drank in two big gulps.

Once she finished, Brittany merely said, "We're all getting ready in our own ways as well as group ways. This is my way, and it's a really good way so just listen to me okay? I'm usually right aren't I?"

"Usually," Rachel conceded, then added, "I am counting Lord Tubbington's various exploits against you."

"He really did sit on Lincoln's head like an old timey fur hat," Brittany took another long drink of her water, then motioned for Rachel to do the same. As Rachel did so, Brittany looked at Santana and Hannah, making sure they were as well.

"When does the normal try out tasks start?" Rachel tightened the lid on the canteen, then tucked it back neatly into her backpack. The bag was big enough that it easily carried her cheer tryout things, and when school started would be roomy enough to carry her school things and anything else she wanted as well. She had also grown somewhat the last few months, so did not _quite_ look so small wearing it.

"Later," was all Brittany replied.

Rachel sighed, and resolved to not complain to Brittany any more. It meant a lot to the blonde girl that Rachel was on the team, and it would certainly give Rachel a way to connect with Quinn.

"Line up!" Coach Sylvester called, and obediently they all lined up in no real organized order. As Coach Sylvester ranted about staying hydrated, the woman cut more people out of the group. Several burst into tears.

It made an odd _sort_ of sense that Coach Sylvester had such a random, lengthy way to cut people. Maybe.

There _was_ a considerable number trying out for the team, and only so many spots -and this was just the freshmen, there was a group of older students whom had yet to participate in any of Coach Sylvester's tests. It made a sort of sense with how highly ranked the Cheerios were, Rachel supposed.

One mom left the group of adults huddled on the side lines to argue about her daughter being cut without actually trying out, and as Coach Sylvester berated the woman into tears of her own, Rachel looked down the line of girls, and accidentally made eye contact with Quinn.

Quinn flipped her hair in challenge, refusing to look away first. Finally, Rachel did. Rachel's stomach twisted, and she wished -not for the first time, that Quinn, her Quinn, was _here_. Things would be much simpler and far easier if they all had come back at once.

For a painful second, she missed the scar on Quinn's face. This Quinn looked too perfect, like she was molded and hand painted to be the head cheerleader, and eventual prom queen. A woman who was married to an executive, had 2.5 children and drank too much wine during the day.

A woman who was a near replica of her mother and sister.

Just another stark reminder that she was not Rachel's. This Quinn could not _ever_ be Rachel's -it had taken death of her parents, the responsibility of her daughter, the life of Shelby, the end of the world and the unwanted mantle of leadership for Quinn to admit she was not straight, and even then it had been grudging, a crumb for Rachel instead of the whole slice of toast.

They had never talked about what would have happened if the world had not ended.

If Rachel had married Finn, moved to New York, leaving Quinn behind in Lima. If Quinn would have continued to hide herself, or if they would have met randomly at the store during a holiday while Rachel was visiting her dads -and Quinn would introduce her girlfriend to Rachel.

When she was back -because Quinn _would_ be back, (Rachel could not allow herself to think otherwise)...Rachel would ask her.

Rachel sighed, and waited for Coach Sylvester to finish ranting and send the now crying woman with her crying daughter away.

"Follow me to the track!" Coach Sylvester finally barked, "Four times around is a mile."

"Well we should not have any problems running this, " Hannah said matter-of-factly behind Rachel.

"Indeed," Rachel said, then added, more to Brittany, "How quickly do you think she shall want us to complete it?"

"Nine minutes and thirty seconds or under," Brittany said, "We can do that easy. Well, maybe not Santana." She gave Santana a flirty smile.

"It's not my fault every time Hobbit tried to get us to run I had cramps." Santana said airily, flipping her pony tail.

"Yes, I am sure it is _quite_ a coincidence," Rachel rolled her eyes. Sometimes this Santana reminded her of their Santana enough that it was utterly unsettling -but most of the time, she was a stark reminder of what _had_ been. This Santana did not have a grudging respect for Rachel, did not have the memories of a past life and the resulting bond. This Santana clearly resented Rachel, and her friendship with Brittany.

"Line up at the starting line!" Coach Sylvester barked, and obediently the remaining freshmen did so. When Coach Sylvester blew her whistle and shouted, "Go!" The quartet took off at a quick pace -not striving to be at the front like some of them, Quinn included, but fast enough to ensure they'd finish well before the time limit.

Minutes later, the quartette, panting a bit, sprawled in the grass waiting for people to finish and Coach to blow the whistle. Santana had fallen slightly behind them and Rachel couldn't help but send her a smug look when they'd crossed the finish line.

"Santana you should run with us more," Brittany said.

"Nah. I'll run whenever we have too at practice, but I'm not doing it on my mes time," Santana snorted, then chugged some water. The casual confidence that not only Santana, but the rest of them would also make the team was certainly _fully_ Santana -even if Rachel was certain she was putting up a good front to not let them know about whatever private fears she held...of course, that was _also_ Santana as well.

"I'm with Santana," Hannah leaned back, "I'm sure we will get plenty of running in at practice without having to do it outside of practice as well." Hannah, on the other hand, had the confidence of someone used to getting her way and things going as she wished -much like Sebastian, and Rachel herself.

Sebastian.

She decided that after she returned home today, she would attempt to speak to Dr. Smythe again. Rachel had tracked down her private practice's number, but had yet to convince the secretary to put her through to Dr. Smythe.

Rachel sipped at her water, determined to not let her gaze linger on Quinn. Quinn had finished first, and Rachel was very impressed. "Perhaps," she finally said when it was clear no one else was going to speak, "but it's important to maintain ourselves beyond practice as well. Cheerios are supposed to be the best."

"Times up!" Coach Sylvester blew her whistle, "Everyone of you still on the track who hasn't passed the finish line, you're cut!"

There was groans and protests and more than a few tears as the dejected, looking very young to Rachel, left.

"Now that the riffraff aren't here wasting my time, it's time for you to learn a routine. Learn it. _Live_ it. Myself and Alumni Cheerios will be watching. If you get a shoulder tap, you're out and are to leave _immediately._ Ashley here," Coach Sylvester gestured to a pretty, tan, blonde woman smiling brilliantly at them next to her, "Has come all the way from Texas where she's a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader to teach you this routine. Don't embarrass yourself!"

"Hi everyone! I was just like you in high school, and if you're good enough to join the Cheerios, you'll be joining a long line of great women and _some_ men. Coach Sylvester's methods might not make sense, but she gets results, and those results are _winning_!" Ashley chirped.

What followed was a long few _hours_ of learning a routine, then performing it over and over. It was not that difficult for Rachel, if she was honest -Brittany had no trouble either, nor really did Santana or Hannah.

Quinn was a clear _star_.

At one point in time, Quinn Fabray was everything Rachel wanted to be. That old feeling of not being good enough, pretty enough, talented enough started to rise up in her. She squished it down. Well, as best she could. It helped to know that Quinn had picked _her._ Even when Quinn had options, Quinn had a crush on her, Rachel Berry.

Coach Sylvester gave one chance to a girl who was the daughter of a previous Cheerio, telling her to watch Quinn -before the girl got her shoulder tapped by a very disappointed looking woman who looked like an older version of her. The girl immediately burst into tears and ran off.

Quinn, more than the anguished cries of those who had their shoulder tapped, or parents coming onto the field to argue, distracted Rachel.

Finally, Coach Sylvester stood in front of Rachel, "What's your name?"

"Rachel Berry. Ma'am."

Coach nodded at her, "Some of you could stand to watch Rachel here -she moves like she was made for this routine. You haven't seen it before? Of course you haven't, Ashley has spent the last two weeks coming up with it. You didn't, did you?"

"Uh, no ma'am." Which was true, since Brittany did not remember it fully, just bits and pieces that she taught them.

Coach Sylvester smiled with more teeth then was likely necessary then moved on.

Quinn _glared_ at her.

Once Rachel made eye contact, Quinn gave her a challenging smirk. Rachel brilliantly smiled back at her -and then Rachel tried her best to give Quinn flirty eyes. Perhaps if she made it clear she was receptive to her advances, Quinn would be easier on herself.

Finally, Coach said, "We're done. Congratulations if you weren't cut. You have sixty minutes for lunch. Eat, make allies, and prepare yourselves -soon the hard work will be starting!" Sylvester then blew her whistle and pointed at two girls who had been cut that were attempting to sneak towards the group of them still in the running.

* * *

As they ate the food Santana's mom made for them for lunch -the woman was very generous and loving and kind to all four of them when they did see her at Santana's house, which was not often. It really seemed like, to Rachel, that Mrs. Lopez was over compensating ...but perhaps that simply the way of mother's. Rachel should not put mothers on a pedestal -she knew better, but it was difficult not to. She was, and had been, truly over Shelby. Honestly.

She was _thirteen_ , and it was hard to fully remember the pain she felt at Shelby's rejections. She fully understood, even if she did not _like_ , Sam saying all those months ago that Stevie felt like a character in a book he had read once.

"I want to talk to Fabray," Santana said to Brittany, "Coach liked her, and she did tell us to make allies."

"Coach liked Rachel, too," Hannah pointed out.

"Yeah, but we already know Rachel," Santana snorted, "And Daddy always says to diversify your options."

Brittany and Rachel shared a quick glance, then Rachel said, "I think that is an excellent idea Santana."

"I wasn't inviting you -don't think Fabray would even talk to us if you came along."

"I doubt she would either," Rachel admitted, "but it is still a good idea for the three of you to go speak to her."

"Not me, I'm going to go talk to that red haired girl -Julie. She's the daughter of one of Daddy's friends." Hannah shrugged apologetically to Rachel.

Brittany and Rachel shared another glance, and Brittany gave her a small nod. "That is perfectly acceptable Hannah, no need to worry about me. I would like to concentrate on this excellent lunch Mrs. Lopez made. Does she cook like this often Santana?"

"Not when it's just me eating."

And Rachel did not know what to say to that, so she stayed silent, resolving to ask Brittany what Santana meant later. Or perhaps, she'd ask Santana herself when she was here.

* * *

"I'm Santana," Santana stated flatly, flicking her pony tail, "And this is Brittany. We're either going to be your best friends or your worst enemies."

Quinn stared at Santana, look on her face like she didn't quite understand her. Brittany giggled. That had been the first thing Santana had said to Quinn before, too. Brittany decided to follow along, because it had worked before, "Both sometimes. But we're really cool and you seem cool too. Do you like cats?"

"I don't _dislike_ cats." Quinn said after a moment, shifting her gaze back and forth between them.

"I'm going to be a cat lady when I grow up. I want like, a dozen. One for each kid." Brittany said happily, sitting down next to Quinn.

"You're planning on twelve kids?" Quinn asked dryly.

"Maybe. Depends on what my life partner wants, but I wouldn't mind if he or she did want twelve, as long as they want at least two." Brittany leaned back putting her face to the sun, not even minding the slight glare in her eyes. She'd never ever get tired of being able to simply relax and sun herself without having to worry about zombies or bad guys. Well, no more then she worried about bad guys today.

Quinn swallowed hard at Brittany's words, but like before, she didn't pounce on that. Santana took the moment to start quizzing Quinn on things, to see what they had in common.

Brittany had found it easy to be bisexual at her school. She supposed if she hadn't been her, with all her awesomeness, people wouldn't have been as nice about it.

The fact that she'd made out freely with a lot of people, and had been so willing to kiss other girls for people - _boys_ to watch, had probably helped.

A _lot._

Which made her feel icky to think about so she tried not to think about it.

She wasn't going to do that this time, though, so maybe they wouldn't be so nice.

She'd deal with it.

She wasn't so worried about herself as she was about Santana, and Rachel although Rachel wasn't going to kiss any girls except Quinn anyway, and Quinn wasn't back yet so she wasn't going to kiss Rachel.

"Reality TV?" Santana asked.

"Yes. Survivor, and American Idol."

"Same. Favorite color?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow, daring Santana to say anything negative, "Pink."

Santana snorted, "Mine's black."

"I like pale turquoise." Brittany said, then asked one of her own, "Favorite type of cloud?"

"Uh...cumulus."

"Mine's the one's that look like bunnies."

Quinn laughed, "Those are nice ones too." Brittany was sure she was laughing at Brittany, but maybe not -some of the tension left Quinn's shoulders, so _probably_ not.

"Yeah, especially if you're laying on some grass just relaxing and looking at them," Santana sighed happily, "And the sun's just right and all your favorite songs keep coming up." Brittany didn't like how she relaxed a lot more without Rachel -and to a lesser extent Hannah and Tina around. Santana only tolerated Rachel, and that made Brittany sad because if Santana would just let them, they could be good friends now.

Quinn nodded, and she relaxed ever so slightly -so slight someone that wasn't Brittany wouldn't have noticed.

This was the moment they truly became friends.

Brittany and Santana made a _really_ good team.

"You were sitting with Berry, are you friends with her?" Quinn finally asked after they'd been talking about random things girls their age talked about when they didn't know the world was going to end for real in a few years.

"Brittany is. I tolerate her." Santana said, looking at her nails which Brittany had painted in different shades of purple last night.

Brittany smiled, "Sometimes Rachel's a stuck stick in the mud, sometimes she talks too much, sometimes she talks to little. You'll like her."

Quinn gave Rachel a long, hard look, then grinned meanly, "She has man hands."

Brittany hadn't missed _this_ at all -being mean just for being means sake. If you were going to be mean, it should be for real reasons, and that was a policy she always tried to stick to. She hadn't ever really stopped her friends and fellow Cheerleaders from being mean for no reason though and that was probably almost just as bad.

Santana and Quinn happily traded insults about Rachel's appearance for 6 minutes; Brittany braided blades of grass together and didn't join in. Rachel wasn't a robot (Brittany had checked after she'd joined glee club the first time) but she probably wouldn't care that much what Santana and Quinn were saying if she found out. Which made it okay for Brittany to not say anything; as mean as it was, this was how Quinn and Santana bonded and it was important for them to be friends.

* * *

Rachel sipped at her water bottle, and watched Santana and Quinn dart sneaky glances at her as they chatted.

Obviously they were talking about her. Very unlikely was it anything kind.

Quinn had not been a very good person for a long time. Rachel did not feel she could judge Quinn, but facing the stark reality of how mean Quinn had been...well, that was one thing altogether.

She had just been about to stand up and go talk to the duo -and Brittany, who was doing a good job of pretending to be entranced with some grass, when she was approached from two different sides by two girls -an icy blonde girl who, if Rachel was asked to describe an average cheerleader, would likely be who she described...minus her noticeably large chest that was made _extra_ noticeable by the neon pink sports bra she was wearing over a black sports bra.

Rachel could not image having breasts so large you needed to wear two sports bras -she wondered, for a moment, if it would be rude or odd to ask about back pain from their weight before her attention shifted to the other girl.

The other girl was willowy and thin, a little taller than Rachel (but most people were, especially on the Cheerios hopefuls where the average height seemed to be a good four inches taller than Rachel) with highlighted brown hair and a sprinkle of freckles that brought attention to her exquisite green eyes.

"I'm Jade," the icy blonde stated as she stepped in front of the other girl with a welcoming smile and a slight push forward of her chest. Rachel had the impression that was a habit, not an invitation.

"I'm Pauline," the brown haired girl said with a sideways glance at Jade.

"Um. Hello. I am-."

"Rachel Berry. Yeah, we know" Jade interrupted with a grin, "Everyone's talking about you."

"Not _everyone_ ," Pauline gave Jade another sideways glance, then stepped forward, "But Coach Sue likes you, and so do the alumni."

Jade narrowed her eyes at Pauline, and then sat next to Rachel in the grass, prompting Pauline to do the same on Rachel's other side.

Rachel locked eye contact with Brittany, who gave her a grinning nod. Brittany had wanted her to make friends with their fellow Cheerios -even if none of them were officially Cheerios yet, because that was a part of Brittany's plan.

Rachel had not been able to bring herself to tell Brittany that she was utterly _terrible_ at making friends, had no friends most of the time, or only had one or two at most for a good portion of her life.

It _should_ be obvious to Brittany, as obvious as it was to Rachel, but not having friends, or people like you was something that Brittany would not get. It was fully out of Brittany's realm of experience -it would like trying to get a cat to understand what duck's love about water.

Rachel leaned back on her hands, pasted a smile on her face, and asked both girls, "What is your favorite musical? I find it difficult to pick just one, but if I was forced too, it would be..." she frowned exaggeratedly, then said, "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, despite the fact that much of it is rather outdated in our modern times."

Jacob Ben Israel once polled the student body in effort to gain her favor and _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_ had garnered the most votes for favorite musical. Funny Girl only had a handful. Rachel was now mature enough to understand that her peers did not want to hear her blabber on about herself, Broadway, or the half dozen other things she usually talked about in attempts to connect with them.

That did not really leave much, but Brittany, the onetime Rachel tried to bring it up, assured her topics for conversation would come naturally eventually.

Pauline nodded, "That one's my favorite too."

Jade shrugged, "Funny Girl's mine."

Rachel perked up, "Was it not a travesty that it did not win any of the Tony awards it was nominated for?"

"At least Streisand won an Oscar for the movie," Jade smiled, and it reached her eyes. Rachel felt herself relax slightly as Jade added, "Pauline and I went to Roosevelt Junior High."

"I attended Washington."

"Did you cheer on the team?" Pauline asked.

Rachel shook her head, "No. I have taken many gymnastic and dance classes, and my friend Brittany suggested I try out with her."

"Wow, you're really good considering you've never officially cheered before." Pauline grinned shyly at her.

"And really ballsy to try out for the Cheerios with no experience cheerleading," Jade giggled, then grabbed Rachel's hand. "I like this color pink. Did you get it done at that place on main street?"

"Um. No. We did each other's nails last night during our Pre-Tryout sleepover."

"Oh wow," Jade cooed, "It looks professional."

They chatted light getting to know you conversations for several minutes.

Soon, more and more people had joined them, sitting either on Jade's side of Rachel or Pauline's.

Eventually Rachel was starting to wonder when their lunch break would be over as Jade chattered on, "I begged mom to upgrade my cell phone, flip phones are so 2006. If I make the team, I'm pretty sure she'll cave. She usually does," Jade smirked in triumph. By now, the girls -and one guy who had joined them, surrounded Rachel at the center of a horseshoe shape.

Jade's group was content to let Jade doing the talking.

"I don't really get along with my mom that much, I'd have to ask my dad for a phone. He usually goes with it; drives mom crazy he spoils me," Pauline said softly. Pauline's group, much like Pauline, interjected here and there quietly to the conversation.

Rachel was still not quite sure why they were so interested in her. Her previous devotion to preparing for Broadway, then the apocalypse, had left some social skills and nuances of her peers -especially those of the more popular crowd, unknown to her.

Jade seemed to wilt a little at Pauline mentioning her dad.

Rachel cocked her head to the side, and wondered what that was about. A girl with long black hair pulled into a pony tail, and grey eyes whom Rachel vaguely recognized snorted, "I have _two_ moms, I bet I was spoiled once, but now I'm the eldest and there's _expectations_ of me." The girl gave Jade a haughty look, "And by the way, since, you know, I've been in the same class as you since kindergarten -not the first time, but the _second_ time you were there, I know you're first name is actually Anne. And that you _gave_ yourself the nickname 'Jade'." The girl snickered.

"Shut _up_ Estella," Jade hissed, narrowing her eyes at Estella.

"Don't be mean 'Tella." A red haired girl chided.

"We're cheerleaders, we're _supposed_ to be mean." Another girl muttered.

"I can't wait to see the veterans do their tryouts -normally Coach Sylvester doesn't make them retry out because once you're a Cheerio, you're a Cheerio till _death_ , but between their performance last year and the fact that so many people had to leave the team she's making them as a lesson." The red haired girl continued.

"But that's good, right? More spaces for us. Usually only four or five spots open up for freshmen, but I heard from my cousin that there could be as many as eight spots." Pauline looked pleased at the thought.

"I heard as many as twenty!" A brown haired girl from Jade's side exclaimed, forgetting the cold war between the two sides surrounding Rachel in her excitement to share her gossip.

"Well, I heard that-" Rachel gave up, and tuned out the conversation. She only knew three names of the people around her, this wasn't important. If they, and she, made the team she would learn their names and attempt to be friendly because that's what Brittany wanted. Rachel would try her best. But her best was not good enough before, she doubted, even with Brittany's assistance, it would be now.

Rachel gave another little sigh, and could not stop herself from giving a longing glance at Quinn, Santana, and Brittany -who by now had their own group of hopeful Cheerios surrounding them. They seemed to not have the issue Rachel did, and were happily leading court.

"Freshmen, assemble!" Coach Sylvester called and Rachel had never been so grateful to hear her voice. Once they'd gathered, Coach gestured at the waiting students in Cheerio workout gear, "This is the remaining Cheerios from last year. They were a disappointment as a group -so many moved away. Your dad gets a new job in a new state, you stay in Lima on my couch instead of choosing to go with your family! And to top it all off, they were half a dozen points behind our previous scores all year! They learned the same routine you did yesterday, and they had one on one interviews. The next thirty minutes will decide who stays and who has their spot taken! " She stepped back and silently pointed. The upper-classmen obediently lined up in position. A few tossed sulky glances around at the watching Cheerio hopefuls, while a few more gave them big smiles.

"On three! One, two, three!" Coach started, and the upper classmen performed. Over and over again, Coach Sylvester had them perform the routine, while she and the Cheerio Alumni watched and took notes and whispered to each other. It was interesting to watch -while they were clearly talented, and their rigorous practicing they no doubted had done in the last twenty four hours showed...Rachel could spot a flaw here and there from all of them except a short red haired girl who looked, frankly, exhausted. Finally, Coach Sylvester blew her whistle.

"I call your name, stand behind me because you managed to convince me and the alumni you should keep your spot. I expect you to be better this year. Wall, Warner, Owen!" Coach Sylvester barked. The only three boys quietly gave each other high fives, then scurried behind Coach. Coach continued calling last names until five girls stood in front of her. "Moran, Landry, Dale, Peters and Reid. You're _cut_. May the stink of your failure go with you instead of lingering." One girl burst into heavy sobs, while another simply stared at Coach Sylvester as tears welled and fell while one girl went wide eyed like she was doing her best to keep herself from bursting into tears, another girl looked resigned and the last looked angry.

"Huh. Loretta stayed on the team before," Brittany, having moved to stand next to Rachel, whispered into her ear. Rachel looked at her skeptically, and Brittany added, "Landry," with a nod towards the girl who was out right sobbing.

"Our day is almost over -current cheerios are going to lead you in a serious of flips, jumps and poses while I confer with my Alumni. No more freshmen will be cut today." Coach Sue glared at them all, "Don't bother showing up tomorrow if you can't memorize the order of flips, jumps, moves and poses, or if you are terrible at them." Then she turned her back on them to address the large crowd of older students who wanted to try out, "Go home. Cheerios are taking only freshmen this year."

It was _just_ like Coach Sylvester to make them wait all day only to send them home.

* * *

Frannie had flat cold eyes. She had eyes like a _shark_. She, after greeting Santana and Brittany sweetly them letting them get into the car started whispering to Quinn. Whatever she was saying made Quinn frown until Quinn caught herself frowning and made her face look normal.

And now they were driving to Quinn's house.

"So have you two...known each other long or did you two meet today as well?" Frannie asked nonchalantly.

"We've known each other since we were little," Santana yawned.

"We knew each other in a past life too," Brittany added.

"Uh-huh." Frannie yawned too, because they were contagious, and looked at Quinn, "I've been speaking with the other alumni; Sue is definitely picking a freshman as head Cheerio."

"Do you think they'll pick me?" Quinn asked softly.

"No. You aren't at that level yet. Keri wouldn't tell me who they were thinking about, but I glanced at her clipboard while she was digging through her purse for a snack, and I saw Rachel written a lot. With that _nose_ , I don't know what Keri's thinking; some of that weight must have gone to her brain."

Frannie was mean.

"Isn't she on kid six now?" Quinn snorted, and turned around, "Frannie says it's not hard to not gain a zillion pounds if you have a baby, it's just laziness. Right Frannie?" Quinn punctuated her point by leaning back against her seat.

"Right. Like men, weight can be controlled. You need to be a _strong_ person, with will power." Frannie glanced pointedly at Quinn, who looked down at her lap. Brittany hadn't caught that before, because she hadn't known how Quinn used to be Lucy then. "I think it goes without saying that if you make the team, you need to be careful about your weight. The key to the Cheerio's success is that everyone can do all positions on the team. So you need to be strong, you need to be light and you need to be flexible."

"Except the boys."

"Yes, of _course_ except the boys on the team. Make sure you don't complain, either, if you're put in a position you don't prefer. Sue hates complainers, and she'll ensure your captain punishes you however the captain sees fit. When I was captain," Frannie parked in front of Quinn's house, and turned to address all three of them, "I made a girl eat an entire extra large pizza, then puke it back up. Twice." Frannie smiled at them, like she had done a good thing. "She learned her lesson. And more importantly, the other girls on the team learned it too."

"Because the Cheerios are a team, and if one is weak, they all are." Quinn nodded, her high pony tail bobbing.

"Exactly. The captain, who ever she is, needs to know that. She needs to be willing to do what she has to do to ensure the Cheerios are strong on and off the field."

"What'd that girl do?" Santana asked. Brittany hated that Santana looked intrigued.

"She drank too much, and didn't like what her inner slut did while she was drunk. Thank goodness she talked to me instead of Coach, we would have lost Nationals that year if Coach had kicked those boys off the team." Frannie nodded at Quinn's house, where Quinn's mom was standing on the front porch, "Mom's waiting for us to go over my notes; I didn't drive all the way from Iowa, leaving my baby with my mother in law, to talk about the glory days of being Captain -although I certainly don't mind." Frannie laughed, then opened her door. "If we get done quick enough I'll help you three go over the routine you were shown...it's not what I would have made up, but then again Coach didn't ask me to make it."

Santana didn't look intrigued any more.

Sharks were misunderstood creatures who killed less people a year then hippos, so it was actually really unfair to compare them to Frannie.

Brittany liked sharks.

She didn't like Frannie.

* * *

An older car from what was likely the fifties pulled up, and Rachel smiled upon seeing Miss Mildred and Miss Henrietta sitting in the front of the white seats. The vehicle was a shiny white on the outside. Upon opening entering, Rachel felt like she was in a boat it was so roomy.

She waved goodbye to Hannah and Hannah's mother. "Thank you for picking me up Miss Mildred, Miss Henrietta," she said as she set her bag on the seat.

"Of course Pumpkin. Miss Mildred loves any excuse to drive this thing, thank goodness it's out of the shop."

"Never used to have to put it in the shop, darn arthritis," Miss Mildred said, blinking owlishly at Rachel, her eyes magnified by her large glasses.

"Well? Did they have you shaking your bottoms and showing off your goods. I do not understand why LeRoy agreed to let you do this, it's indecent. No doubt Hiram thinks it'll help your career."

"Oh hush. As if you haven't done your fair share of bottom shaking and showing off your goods Henrietta."

"Hold your tongue Mildred, and don't tell falsehoods in front of Rachel."

"Falsehoods?" Miss Mildred giggled, "Oh I can still remember hearing those English girls talking about how rude our dancing was when we were jitterbugging with those English boys in London!"

"I did not realize you two have known each other for _so_ long," Rachel offered, trying to fish for information. Miss Henrietta didn't talk about the past so much, but Miss Mildred tended to occasionally.

"Oh yes..." Miss Mildred frowned, "We met...well, there's no easy way to say it, we were prisoners of war together. Despite the fact that she was black and an army nurse, and I was white and a navy nurse, we became friends. It took...oh, a year before I would say we were good friends. It wasn't easy to be friends after the war ended, mind you, but it's gotten much better with time." Miss Mildred looked at Rachel in the rear view mirror, "Don't ask her about that time, she doesn't like to think about those years."

"I am right _here_ ," Miss Henrietta stared sullenly out the window, "And I only danced like that because I had spent three years thinking I was going to wake up the next day and die."

Rachel made a note to ask LeRoy about Miss Henrietta's time during the war. Prudently, she decided to change the subject, "I..." she trailed off..."I am attempting to locate a friend of mine who moved to France, I lost his contact information and cannot seem to track him down. I think I shall have to take French as my foreign language instead of Spanish to assist me in my efforts."

"Miss Mildred can help you, she's fluent in French."

Miss Mildred nodded, "My mother was French."

"Oh I could not possibly ask you to do so Miss Mildred, it would be a lot of work and very time consuming."

"What do I have _but_ time? I would be happy to help you Rachel," Miss Mildred turned into Miss Henrietta's driveway, "We're here. You go ahead and run into the house and write down everything you know about your friend, and I'll get started when I get home. You don't need a ride home, do you?"

"See Rachel, I told you she'll take every excuse she can to drive this thing."

"If you recall, Miss Henrietta, you were the one who helped me convince Monroe we should buy this over that flashy corvette he wanted." Miss Mildred sniffed.

"And no, my LeRoy will be picking her up after we finish our canning."

"Beets? Be sure to set some jars aside, and I'll bring by some bags of peaches to trade."

"You mean like we've done every year for the last I don't even remember because I am so darn old years?"

"Rachel why don't you run on into the house now?" Miss Mildred nodded at Rachel.

Rachel loved their back and forth, even if it made her miss Sebastian all that much more. "Of course, I shall be right back."

She did not expect Miss Mildred to be much help, but it wouldn't hurt to let her try.

* * *

"Hiram has your bag packed, and a snack bag. He wanted to stay the night in Columbus, but I reminded him about your..." LeRoy trailed off, then collected himself, "Cheerleading tryouts."

Rachel buckled her seat belt smartly, "In addition to tryouts, should I make the team there will be cheer camp, practices, team bonding events and I feel we can likely expect my social calendar in general to become more busy."

"That's going to be a lot on top of the musical; with the opening night being Friday pumpkin, then showings every day except Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday it's going to be a time crunch especially when you factor in the fact we're two hours away. Are you sure you aren't taking too much on?"

"Well...papa," she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "To be honest I only agreed to do the musical because it made daddy happy. I fully intend on dropping it after Friday. So it will not be a factor in my schedule."

LeRoy did not answer for several minutes, not until they were pulling into the driveway. He parked the car, then turned and looked at her. "I am very disappointed in you Rachel."

"What? Papa I told him I did not want to do it, I-" the utter injustice and _gall_ of LeRoy being disappointed in her when she made it clear that continuing to do the musical was against her wishes.

"Regardless, you made a _commitment_ to him, us, and your cast mates. You'll be letting them down, and leaving your understudy and the director scrambling."

"Papa," Rachel hated how whiny she sounded, "Papa, I said, I told you both that-"

He shook his head, interrupting her, "I need to talk to your father about this Rachel. Please go to your room." The disappointment was heavy in his voice.

Biting back an angry sob, Rachel left the car, slamming the door behind her. On her way up to her room, she scooped up Starla, and did not great Hiram as she rushed through the house.

* * *

Starla licked her face when Rachel finally stopped crying. It was not _fair._ Hiccupping slightly, she went into her bathroom and washed her face. The cold water made her feel a little better. She sat on the bed gently petting Starla, trying to work up either enough bravery or enough outrage to speak to her dads; unable to muster either.

She sighed, and decided to change out of her tryout clothing into more comfortable clothes when her phone rang. Pulling her t-shirt -well, actually it was Brittany's t-shirt, on, she picked it up.

"Hello, Rachel Berry speaking," she said, and then sighed again.

"Rachel it's me." Terri, like always it seemed, sounded impatient and stressed out, "I just wanted to speak to you very quickly about Cheerio's -to make sure you are _aware_ that Coach Sylvester is considering you for head cheerleader."

"Me?" Rachel couldn't contain the shock and surprise in her voice. "Surely you are mistaken."

"Nope, you're on the short list. Use the drive to think about ways you can show leadership tomorrow when Sue puts you in groups; she and the alumni will be watching you like a hawk. I will not be the only former head Cheerio there -we'll give her our suggestions, but ultimately Sue goes by her gut feelings."

"Me?" Rachel couldn't find anything else to say.

"I was head cheerio for two years Rachel, I think I know what I'm talking about," Terri said dryly, "And Coach only calls out girls she thinks highly of. You are most definitely in the running."

"How do you know she called me out?"

"Sue's already had the notes from the day delivered." The amusement in Terri's voice was obvious, "I will be _incredibly_ biased in your favor."

"No, Terri, that's Quinn's position."

"It _was_. Now it could be yours. I think it would do you some good, give you valuable experience being in a position of leadership and power with people who want to be lead by you." Terri sighed then added, "And Quinn isn't _here._ You are. I'm thinking of the future, and what's best for _us_. Which is why I should get back to studying. I will see you tomorrow."

Rachel sighed. "Alright. Goodbye Terri."

She set her phone down in the cradle, and laid back on her bed. Visions of her leading the Cheerios, being popular, having all the boys and some girls -having _Finn_ , want her.

It was so odd how a lifetime ago, she would have gladly taken all that without hesitation at the thought of Quinn Fabray losing it all. She'd grown up. Matured. Realized there were more important things then high school and popularity.

One part of her wanted to go for it, consequences be damned.

Quinn, when she came back, would still have the previous experience of being head cheerleader. Of course, she wouldn't have the relationships -but she would still be on the team, so maybe she would.

Would it be selfish of her to be _head_ Cheerio? She needed to talk to Brittany -the whole Rachel as a Cheerio thing was Brittany's idea _anyway_ so Brittany could decide.

She sat back against the pile of pillows on her bed.

No. She did not need to speak to Brittany about this; ultimately, Rachel did not _care_ about being captain. She really only cared about being a Cheerio at all because Brittany wanted her to be. It meant a lot to Quinn to be captain, though.

Tomorrow she would give not try to be captain, and if somehow she was still offered it she would decline. Hopefully Sue would not take it personally and kick her off the team or anything like that.

She glanced at the clock, and realized if they were going to go to rehearsals tonight they would have had to leave an hour ago. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself to go speak to her dads when there was a knock at her bedroom door.

"Rachel?" LeRoy called softly.

She opened it, and he glanced at her shirt immediately, "I'm guessing that's Brittany's."

Rachel looked down at the garish neon smiley bunny face, and nodded, "I borrowed it from her."

"I see," he frowned. Rachel could practically see him adding that tidbit to his 'ways my daughter is growing and changing' list. She did not want to tell him that she had been forced to borrow it from Brittany because her shirts -including the one she was wearing to sleep in, had gone missing last she'd slept over at Brittany's house.

Brittany had apologized and blamed Lord Tubbington, while Rachel had blamed Santana. Santana had steadily refused to admit it was her or tell Rachel where she had hidden Rachel's clothing. Her dads, since the Jill incident, took any perceived bullying much more seriously now and would likely not allow her to be around Santana any more, which would force Brittany to choose between them or at least significantly cut down the time Rachel spent with Brittany.

She just had to get through tonight's rehearsals, then Thursdays dress rehearsals and Friday.

"Your father and I have called director and informed her you are dropping out, effective immediately." LeRoy stared at her, "We're both disappointed, but you did state from the outset that you did not wish to do the musical so we need to take your feelings into account and not just our own."

Rachel nodded, "Where's daddy?"

"He's making dinner," LeRoy opened his arms wide, and Rachel jumped in for a hug. She felt better. This was okay. She was okay.

* * *

Rachel took a deep breath, and focused on her breathing. LeRoy had dropped her off this morning at tryouts; Sylvester with the alumni assisting her, under the watchful eye of some very on edge parents had made them show off the routine they'd been shown yesterday.

Hiram had made her a protein and nutritious rich breakfast this morning; he had not, however, been waiting for her to chit chat and eat with her. LeRoy had apologized for Hiram having to go into the office early, and LeRoy having ate with him already, but LeRoy had sat and asked about tryouts yesterday, as well as her time with Miss Henrietta -Rachel had asked if he knew about her time as a prisoner of war and he'd nodded somberly. Not from her, but he wouldn't elaborate on how he'd come to find out until she was older -which had put her in a pissy sulky mood. She was self aware enough to realize it and able to act accordingly in order to not take her mood out on anyone else.

With age came a new self awareness.

Hiram was upset. Clearly. And it was understandable. Rachel was upset as well; of course she had the perspective to realize that what she was doing now was more important.

Well, she still had her doubts about being a cheerleader, but Brittany said it was a part of her plan so Rachel was setting aside her doubts. It greatly helped that with being a Cheerio came the popularity, attention, and the fulfillment of all her dreams and hopes for high school. Dreams that would finally be coming true.

Most of her _was_ , after all, still thirteen.

The hopefuls had been whittled down to a mere two dozen by lunch time. Terri, with little curly haired Ollie, had walked around with her clipboard along with the other alumni and Sue, staring and judging and writing things down. Terri looked -well, not relaxed, but slightly less stressed out then she normally did. Some of which was probably due to the pregnancy glow she seemed to have. Or perhaps it was a good night's sleep.

Rachel still wasn't pleased about another child to worry about, to plan for, and it certainly didn't help that Terri was starting to worry about the fact they did not have a home base yet. The stock market crash hadn't happened, and until it did, as well as a bit of time for Rachel's chosen stocks to bounce back, they did not have much capital to work worth. There was only so much credit card and student loan abuse one could do, even if Terri was very creative about it.

At lunch, Rachel had quietly sat on the outskirts of Quinn's court. Jade and Pauline and what friends of theirs left had sat next to her, and eventually the whole group of remaining Freshmen had chatted and bonded a bit as a group.

She let out and took in several deep breaths as Sue stared at them.

"Berry, Dale, DiLaurentis-Fields, Grant, Harmon, Johnson, Lopez, Pierce, Pright, and Smith," Sue finally barked out. "Welcome to the Cheerios. Don't disappointment me."

Sue turned as they scrambled to stand behind her and the elder Cheerios. Next to her, Brittany was bouncy with excitement. Hannah was a little more subdued. Rachel saw all of Jade and Pauline's friends standing there, they had all come so far only to not make it past this point -some not able to hold back tears as they stared at them. Once the last new Cheerio was in place with their elder peers, Sue barked out. " _Fabray._ You're the last Cheerio this year. And you're Captain. The rest of you, better luck next year."

Quinn smiled, and looked like the cat that caught the canary -she met Rachel's eyes and Quinn smirked at her.

Rachel knew that she made the right choice in not doing more than Brittany or Santana today at tryouts -Quinn cared far more about the captaincy then Rachel did. And goodness, why did Quinn smirking at her like that send little butterflies fluttering around in Rachel's stomach? She gave Quinn a genuine smile and a small nod in return. Quinn glared at her, but nodded slightly as Sue directed them all to go to the Cheerio gym.

As she followed her fellow cheerleaders to a place that she had never dared step into before, Rachel tried to stifle the butterflies in her stomach. It was silly and immature to be so excited about Quinn.

Santana and Brittany had immediately darted away to stand with Quinn at the front of the line and Pauline had moved to fill Brittany's place.

"You have a grin on your face I've only seen in romcoms. Is it Adam? Because I'm pretty sure you'll have to get in line for him."

"No, not Adam." Rachel collected herself, "I'm just..." she trailed off. She wasn't happy -but she was suddenly not in the mood she was in this morning.

"In shock you made the Cheerios? You shouldn't be, you're great. I can't believe _I_ made it. Dad and Mom are going to take me to the fancy restaurant they only go to on their anniversary in Dayton. Mom was already talking about how it'll help my with college, and I was like 'chill mom, I haven't made the team yet'," Pauline said in a rush, tucking a piece of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. She hesitated, "Well, I yelled it at her. I'm not proud of that, but she wouldn't let up. Sometimes yelling is the only way to get her to listen."

Rachel nodded, thinking about her dads. "Parents can be difficult. How will your friends react to not making the team?"

Pauline sighed, "Well Angela's parents wanted to move to Cleveland but were holding off in case Angela made the team, so I guess they will now. And Ashley, Sara, and Corey all didn't even live in Lima so I probably won't see them much now that we aren't going to the same high school..." Pauline locked arms with Rachel, "Good thing I have you huh?"

"Um. Yes?" Well. This was new.

Pauline laughed, "I'm so mad for you that you didn't make Captain. You totally deserved it."

"Perhaps. I think Quinn wanted it more than me," Rachel said carefully, filled with trepidation as they went through the doors into the Cheerio Gym. They chit chatted and made small talk about tryouts as they both stared around them in wide eyed wonder at the gym.

The Cheerio Gym was opulent and modern and Rachel wondered as they'd walked through it why some of the money wasn't funneled to the rest of the school, because goodness knows the school needed more money.

Then again, given how Coach Sylvester had over reacted to the small amount of money glee club needed that first year, likely Figgins was scared of trying to pry some of the budget out of her hands.

* * *

Being in the Cheerio locker room felt like wearing her dad's sweaters. Comfortable and super fashionable.

Brittany loved their gym, it was great. There was a sauna and a lot of bathrooms where the stalls went to the floor and there wasn't those gaps at the doors so you people couldn't see you peeing.

She found the locker with the little metal thingy with "Pierce" engraved on it -same as it was before, locker #12. It was perfectly placed away from the bathroom and doors. She was pretty sure Coach had all their last names engraved then had someone put the little metal things up while she was announcing who made the time.

She smiled happily at her locker, and didn't even bother to look at the post it note with the combination on it, instead crumbling the little paper and tossing it into her gym bag. A gym bag she was going to put in Tiffany's closet, because now Brittany had her Cheerio gym bag back so she didn't need this one anymore.

She entered the combination -and grinned because she could hear Santana cursing softly as she had trouble with the combination to the locker Santana had had before too -#15.

She popped her combination off, and pulled the door open. Like before, there was clothes neatly hanging on a tension rod, a box with regulation hair ties and bows and odds and ins, and a binder full of rules and routines. Brittany frowned at her pink nail polish -she was going to miss wearing polish. And painting Santana's nails. It was relaxing.

"Brittany, help." Santana huffed. Grinning at her, Brittany bounced around Hannah, who at locker #14 and waved Santana off when the other girl tried to give her post it with the combination on it.

"I already know it." Brittany quickly opened it with a flourish.

"How? No, I don't want to know." Santana picked up the binder, "Ugh this is huge."

"We can go over it tonight before dinner?" Brittany said.

"Um. Yeah, about that Britts...can Hannah or Rachel give you a ride home? I suck, but I gotta cancel on you for dinner." Santana looked down, "I'm dating a guy on the football team and I'm bringing him to Abuela's instead."

Brittany felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Puck?"

Santana nodded, then snorted, "Barely on the team and you're already getting all the gossip."

8 months. Santana didn't start dating Puck for 8 months. They'd made the team, Brittany had lost her virginity at Cheer Camp to that boy who lived in Nevada near Area 51, and the next night so did Santana. They'd talked about it. They'd bonded over it, and that had lead to them making the leap to having sex. They had only each other for most of their freshmen year until Santana had started dating Puck in April. That was also the time they'd realized how boys would do whatever you wanted if you kissed in from of them. And when Brittany decided to see how many people at school she could kiss. Brittany wasn't going to have sex with that boy this time, or kiss anyone besides Santana or give away their love like popcorn at a circus.

What did Brittany do to change things? "I need to pee." Brittany said, then ran to the bathroom.

It wasn't what Brittany did. It was what she couldn't bring herself to do with Santana right now. That was it. And now Brittany ruined everything.

* * *

"Papa do you think Brittany will be okay?" Rachel asked LeRoy. She frowned, and stared at Brittany's house growing smaller through the window as LeRoy drove.

"Well that's hard to say since she would not talk about what was wrong, but I'm sure she will." LeRoy said after a moment.

Brittany wouldn't tell Rachel what was wrong when she'd checked on her in the bathroom. Hannah either. Rachel assumed, going by how nasty Santana was after Brittany went to hide in a stall to cry, that Santana was at the core.

"I shall ask her tomorrow." Rachel looked at LeRoy, "Well, assuming I see her tomorrow. We have been ordered to bond as a team at our Captain's house for the weekend. May I go?"

"All weekend long?"

She nodded.

"Well, I need to speak to your daddy about it."

"Papa, if I do not go I will likely be the only one missing out. And they will bond without me, and I will be an outsider on the team. I-" Rachel could not stop the rising panic in her voice and thankfully LeRoy interrupted her before she could work herself up into a greater freenzy.

"Shhhh, it's okay Pumpkin. You can go tomorrow and all weekend. Please calm down." LeRoy tapped on the steering while as he waited for the light to change, and said, "Coach Sylvester emailed us the yearly itinerary and manual. You'll have practice in the morning before school. Early. And did you know you have to wear your uniform to school every day? All year?"

Rachel nodded, "Yes. I think I can ride my bike to practice and home, which besides giving me exercise will make it easier on you and Papa."

"I will definitely have to talk to your father about that Pumpkin, you know how he worries." LeRoy and Rachel shared a smile, and LeRoy continued, "Are you not worried about standing out with the uniform? Although maybe you would rather blend in."

"Papa, be serious. Just by being myself I will stand out."

LeRoy laughed, "True enough Pumpkin, true enough."

Rachel was in back in the good mood she had been in before Brittany had run off crying.

Everything she had wished for before when she started high school was going to come true.

It was a nice feeling.

"Run upstairs and shower. It's late enough that I'll just bring your dinner to your room this one time okay?" LeRoy said a bit later once they were home and walking through the door.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He's resting his eyes, but he's a very proud papa Pumpkin. He's going to make us all a special breakfast tomorrow. I believe he's even going to make a plate for Starla."

Rachel laughed, and darted up the stairs lugging her bag behind her.

Once she was showered she'd left her bathroom to find LeRoy had left a tray with her late dinner on her desk.

He had, however, forgotten a fork. She pulled her robe on, went into the hall. She paused at the stairs and decided that she needed Starla with her.

There was only one place Starla could be if she was not with Rachel -her parent's room.

Intent on getting her dog, Rachel yawned and detoured to her dads side of the house.

"She's happy Hiram. That's all that matters." Came LeRoy's voice through the door before Rachel could knock.

"I don't like it. It was just _such_ a sudden change." A pause, then Hiram continued, "What if she has a brain tumor?"

"Hiram _please._ " Rachel stood there frozen.

"Or she gets injured. Cheerleading is a sport, and it's _dangerous._ What if she breaks her back? Her neck?"

Rachel could not move. She knew this was not a conversation for her to hear.

"Take some deep breaths Hiram and stop working yourself into a tizzy." Came LeRoy's patient response. Several moments passed before LeRoy said, "See. Think rationally Hiram, remember? Coach Sylvester has numerous safety regulations in place on top of what the school does. You really should check your email more, I'm certain she sent the manual and itinerary to you as well."

"I just...I cannot imagine what I would do if something happened to her. She is my _child._ You and she are the light of my life, and if you two both died I would kill myself."

"Nothing is going to happen to either of us. You and I will be elderly men watching -and spoiling, Rachel's children. They'll be hyper little beasts when she comes to get them, and she'll give us a lecture on sugar."

"Do you think she will have more than one?" A lengthy pause, then Hiram added, "Remember how we wanted _three_ children?"

"What I remember is the first miscarriage, and the _second_ Hiram. And how scared we were during the entire time Shelby was pregnant with Rachel. And how we decided the heart break was too much, so Rachel would remain an only child."

"So why have we been paying the storage fees for the embryos this whole time?" Came Hiram's quiet response.

"Hiram what has gotten into you?" Rustling. "Rachel is growing into a lovely young woman, is that making you feel ...old? A new baby will not make you feel youthful Rammy, quite the opposite I'd say. "

"We have two embryos left LeRoy. I just feel as though they're in limbo -we can't bring ourselves to destroy them, nor donate them, so they remain frozen. Why not use them?"

"I want to believe you, but it's incredibly difficult considering you have never expressed such feelings before.. Please tell me the truth -is this because Rachel is not following the life path you want, and thought you would try again?"

Hiram didn't answer. Finally, LeRoy said, "I see. I would love to expand our family Hiram. I love you, and I love the life we've built. Even if I would have preferred to do so when Rachel was younger so she would be closer in age to her siblings.. But I will _not_ bring more children into this world because you can not realize that Rachel is her own person, and allowed to make her own choices. "

"We've spent so much time and money investing in her Broadway career LeRoy. It's just such a waste-"

"Rachel enjoyed it. So did we. It wasn't a _waste_ Hiram. We both have lived vicariously through her, and all the possibilities she has in life. It was nice, wasn't it, to day dream about the career she could have had? But if it's all daydreams, then that's that. She's an amazing, smart, beautiful, talented girl whom has the world at her feet. No matter what she does."

The over head light turned on, sending light seeping from under the door.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight Hiram. I suggest you think long and hard about what Rachel and I truly mean to you. If you want to have another child for the right reasons, we can seriously discuss it. If you want to do it for the wrong reasons -because you see our beautiful, talented girl not doing what you want her to do with your life...I suggest you _remember_ another man who _disowned_ his son because his son wanted his _own path-_."

Before LeRoy caught her, Rachel darted down the hallway to her side of the house. She flung herself through her open bedroom door, shoved it shut with her foot, then crumpled to the floor sobbing.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I've been dealing with some personal things on top of being incredibly busy with school, but a good portion of the issues have resolved; next chapter won't take half a year to get out. And if you leave a signed review, the preview for the next chapter has some Faberry goodness to it.

Miss Henrietta and Miss Mildred's time as POWs during WW2 is a _very_ fictionalized account based on the "Angels of Bataan"; an actual group of Navy and Army female nurses taken as prisoners of war.


	5. Mine

To Rachel's utter _shame_ , she could not bring herself to speak to either father about the conversation she had overheard. Partially because it was not something she was supposed to have heard -and given how much she had changed and how greatly she had disappointed them already, she could not, _would_ not, add the disappointment of eavesdropping to the list of her sins.

Which was foolish of her, really. The list would grow regardless, with much worse sins then mere _eavesdropping._

The other part well -as eloquent as she was, she simply could not find the words.

She did not know that they had zygotes left over -possible siblings in limbo. She did not know about the miscarriages Shelby had. Although, in hindsight, it makes sense particularly when combined with the knowledge that after Rachel, Shelby was no longer able to have children.

Rachel wished that she and her parents had the time for her relationship with them to grow into those of peers, instead of fathers and child. Rachel could have known them as the person all parents keep hidden from their children, and they would have known her as a capable, successful adult.

Papa had slept in the guest room the last several nights.

They did not realize she knew. She was fairly certain that neither father realized just _how_ early she woke up in the morning, and thus able to see the guest bedroom was occupied.

The Berry family talked about their problems. If things were fairly serious, they simply needed time to cool down and put away the dramatics. It was just taking a bit more time than normal, which was to be expected at the seriousness of the situation. Rachel -with Starla in tow, and even Tiffany once as she was babysitting the toddler, stayed at Miss Henrietta's a good portion of the time.

Perhaps it would be best if she were out of the house for three weeks, to give time to her parents to reconnect, but perhaps the weekend she was spending at the Fabray home would give them that time to have the serious conversation they dearly needed to have.

This uncertainty about her parents was both refreshing, but also incredibly frustrating. She was not used to them being at odds -but she was also now much more aware of what was going on beyond herself.

She hefted her official Cheerio duffle bag onto her back, and clutched her sleeping bag to her chest, then gave each of her dads a kiss. Her dads had decided to simply go into work after dropping her off promptly at 10 am, and stay later to make up for it, instead of simply saying goodbye after breakfast and letting someone else drop her off.

They loved her.

It was, even with as long as she had been back with them, simply _refreshing_ to have these people who loved her like this.

Her _parents_ -always there for her, loving her and taking care of her. She wondered how she had even survived the apocalypse without their love and care...although, technically she _had_ died.

At that though, she let her things slip from her grasp, and engulfed first LeRoy, then Hiram, in hugs. "I love you both, and I shall see you Sunday evening."

"Don't eat too much junk food," Hiram said. LeRoy gave him a quick look, and Hiram added, "If they want to watch a movie that is too scary for you, it's okay to say you do not wish too."

"Or simply call us to pick you up." LeRoy added.

Hiram nodded, "Or that. Really darling."

Rachel smiled at them, "Dads, I shall be _fine._ " She stared at them levelly, then worried at her lip for a second.

The two men shared a look, and pulled her into one last three way hug. LeRoy had long since learned to automatically adjust for the difference in his height verses Hiram's and Rachel in a smooth motion, and Rachel still was not quite so used to it that she did not notice it any more.

It was lovely.

Rachel felt good for the first time in the last couple of days, at least until the hug finished, and LeRoy said, "Have a good time with your cheerleading friends."

And Hiram sucked in air, then let it out slowly before nodding. He did not quite gush over her as he normally would as they reiterated their goodbyes. Some of her good mood leaving her, Rachel picked up her things and took a deep breath. After one last glance at her dads -who were pulling away in the car slowly by now, she opened the door.

The first item to catch her attention was the vivid red carpeting.

Red carpeting was an odd choice.

Mrs. Fabray was not there to greet her, and Rachel stood awkwardly by the front door, unsure of what to do.

Quinn had been clear they were to simply enter the Fabray home and find her, but that felt terribly impolite.

Rachel was lingering at the door way, still unsure, when the door opened and bumped into her.

Pauline stuck her head in, and smiled upon seeing Rachel. "Oh, Rachel! Hi!"

Rachel relaxed slightly, "Hi. I have just arrived."

"I think we're supposed to go down to the basement?" Pauline stepped inside, pulling a neon pink suitcase behind her. She turned around and waved, yelling, "Bye mom!"

Rachel nodded. They made simple small talk, with Rachel mainly listening as Pauline nervously chattered about some show who's season finale was last night, as they wandered for a few minutes until they found an arrow in Cheerio Red pointing towards presumably the basement door. "I'm a little nervous about this," Pauline admitted as they stood in front of the door.

"As am I," Rachel admitted, "I-"

"Like, Junior high cheerleading wasn't that big of a deal, but this is the _Cheerios."_ Pauline said in a rush, interrupting Rachel. "They have traditions, and rules, and...I'm just worried, it's a lot of pressure and we haven't even gone to cheer camp yet. Not that I'm looking forward to leaving my parents -well, my dad, for that long. We're going to miss the car show, we go together every year. "

Rachel nodded, and when it seemed like Pauline was done with her burst of words, gently said, "Perhaps you can schedule an activity you two can do together when you return, to make up for missing the car show?"

Pauline brightened, and grinned, "That's a good idea. I totally didn't think of that, like I've been just moping about missing it, and trying to get courage to ask Coach if I could go home for that day, and just duh, rescheduling something else to make up for it." She shook her head, "It's weird how obvious things are but we're too close to them to see, huh?" Pauline stared at the door, "We better go in, I don't think Quinn will like it if we're late." Without waiting for an answer, Pauline pushed the door open and disappeared downstairs, dragging her suitcase along the steps behind her.

Rachel took a deep breath, and followed.

In contrast to the red carpets, the stairs down to the basement were covered in a dark grey plush carpet. The walls were a bright white, and it did not take long before Rachel found herself at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the collection of cheerleaders who had arrived so far. They seemed like perfect dolls, limited edition and meant for looking at, not for playing with.

Rachel had decided that comfort was clearly what sleepovers were about, and had dressed accordingly. Quinn had told them to bring items to practice in, and she had, but for the first day she had simply worn comfortable black bike shorts and the neon smiley face t-shirt she'd borrowed from Brittany, and done her hair in a simple braid done by Hiram. Everyone else was dressed much nicer, and had their hair in the regulation Cheerio ponytail. Rachel was suddenly quite concerned she had missed an email from Quinn, and her stomach twisted at the thought.

She felt very out of place; some part of her -the part from before, would not stop the panic little voice inside of her telling her that a crowd of Cheerios, with no adult super vision, was _dangerous_ for her.

She took another deep breath, and let it out slowly.

She belonged here. She was _one_ of _them._

Pauline waved her over to where she was already chit chatting with Hannah and Alice, and feeling slightly better Rachel went to join them.

One by one, more and more Cheerios arrived. Rachel tried her best to match names and faces, but it was especially difficult with those in a grade higher than her. She eventually had drifted away from Hannah, Alice, and Pauline to look around the basement. The star of the room was the large, comfortable looking sectional in the middle, and a large leather recliner. Both were facing a flat screen television mounted on the wall. Tucked away against the other wall were the stairs -there was a door under it, presumably storage, and this was where Quinn had indicated they should leave their things. Against the other wall was a bathroom, and a rectangle table that would seat ten or twelve of them, depending on how many they could squeeze onto the bench seats.

Rachel meandered towards the table, unable to stop herself from looking at the clipboard and paperwork neatly set at the head. Quinn's captain paper work.

"Can someone bring my clipboard to me?" Quinn called out coolly from the recliner.

One of the Kelly's -Rachel was not sure which yet, was about the same distance as Rachel from it. Their eyes met, then they both darted forward to grab it.

Rachel snatched it right before the Kelly could, then triumphantly walked it to Quinn.

Instead of taking it when Rachel offered it to her, Quinn simply said, "Who's still not here?" and surveyed the chit chatting Cheerios.

"Jade, Adam, and Estella," Rachel said after a moment of counting the assorted Cheerios, and realizing three were missing. Luckily for her, those three were fellow freshmen.

Quinn nodded, her face a frozen mask. Undoubtedly planning some sort of punishment for them being late -it was currently 10:43.

Rachel neatly wrote, "10:43" and "J, A, and E" on the top of the paper to remind herself, then said, "What is your favorite color Quinn?" She knew it, already, but there was always the chance that it was different now with Quinn being younger.

Quinn frowned, and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"This is a time for us to get to know each other, correct? I am simply trying to get to know you better."

Quinn shook her head, "There'll be time for that later, Rachel. Why don't you go talk to someone else."

Rachel nodded. She was _hurt_ , and if she spoke she feared she would show Quinn that. Rachel set the clipboard down, and slunked over to where Brittany was saying something to make Santana and half a dozen others laugh. Rachel was good at organizing, and paperwork, and would have been happy to help Quinn with both.

Rachel needed to remember that this Quinn was much younger and had different priorities the her Quinn -or even the Quinn of their sophomore year. She propelled the hurt down, put a smile on her face, and listened intently to where the conversation had shifted to Lord Tubbington's favorite American Idol.

* * *

Eventually, the three final Cheerios arrived with excuses Quinn clearly did not appreciate and Quinn had them do two pushups and two jumping jacks per minute they were late, then their Official Cheerio Sleepover really began.

They listened to the elder Cheerios talk about what had gone wrong for the team the last couple of years, leading to a group discussion headed by about how they were going to change things going forward. They broke for a lunch of a protein shake, and the team building resumed with them going over the cheer they had learned at tryouts. Then playing a game that involved telling two lies and a truth (and Rachel had been horrified when Brittany's had been "I'm a lesbian, I'm a time traveler, and I hate cats." Everyone had guessed that time traveler and hating cats was the lie. Brittany, being Brittany, had said that she was bisexual, not a lesbian, and that she loved cats, leading to a group of cheerleaders who shared looks but ultimately wrote off Brittany admitting to being a time traveler.)

Only Brittany could get away with it, much like only Brittany could get away with the outfit she was wearing -a short flower print skirt that could have doubled for a belt and showed off her long legs in what Rachel deemed a totally unfair manner, and a simple white tank top with a neon pink bra peaking out here and there.

Rachel was not sure what was annoying Santana more -the fact Rachel was wearing Brittany's shirt, or Brittany's outfit being distracting to Santana. As no doubt it was intending to do.

Eventually, it was dinner time.

By now, Rachel felt less awkward and out of place. Which of course, had been the point of the team building.

It was refreshing to not feel like she was at risk when surrounded by Cheerios.

Of course, that feeling turned to stomach twisting anxiety when Quinn gave a nod to Santana, who sat up from where she'd been sitting, half eaten pizza boxes surrounded them.

Quinn stood up as well. Hands on her hips, she looked each one of them in the eyes. "Time for the portion of the night we don't tell our parents or Coach about. I'm sure she knows about this tradition, but," she shrugged.

"We have beer, we have wine coolers, and we have vodka," Santana sneered, "Curtsy of Quinn's parents."

The alcohol was passed around, and tepidly, the freshmen started drinking small sips of whatever it was they grabbed or were handed, while the older Cheerios drank with gusto.

Rachel clutched an unopened wine cooler, and made her way to Quinn, "Quinn I do not feel that this is a very good idea at the moment. Some of us are very young -I am only thirteen! Alcohol is detrimental to brain development, and it's simply not safe and-" Rachel trailed off -Quinn had a particular look on her face that Rachel had only seen before she was slushied.

"Rachel, are you questioning your captain?" Quinn said slowly.

"I suppose...yes, I am?"

"This is your one and only warning, " Quinn held out her hand, "Give me your drink. I want you to pick up all the pizza boxes. Put the leftovers pizza in tupperware into the fridge, and put the boxes in the recycling. The recycling can is in the garage, you'll have to break the boxes down."

"I-"

" _Now_ , Rachel. Or do I need to spell it out step by step even _more_ for you?" Quinn's voice raised, and everyone looked at them. Rachel took a deep breath, stared Quinn in the eyes, and left without another word. She would not cry. It was just hormones and teen angst.

* * *

"Come on Berry," Santana waved her cigar for emphasis, and grinned when Rachel frowned at the smoke, "It's just a drink. Loosen up. We do it all the time, right Brits?"

Rachel very much doubted that was true. Given the amount of pizza boxes -and left over pizza, it had taken her almost an hour to do as Quinn demanded. By the time she had returned permanently to the basement, her fellow cheerleaders were well on their way to drunkenness. She had cried, a very small amount, in the garage.

Rachel let out a slow stream of air, then accepted the wine cooler Brittany offered. Brittany sipped at her own with an encouraging smile.

Brittany was just wearing her neon pink bra, and had lost her tank top at some point.

Rachel sipped at it again, the fake cherry taste not appealing to her at all. Brittany giggled, then drank deeply at what was most certainly not her first drink of the night.

Just as Rachel was deciding to stick close to Brittany, Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and drug her away from Rachel.

Rachel was starting to feel a little odd. She had only sipped at her lunch, and eaten only one slice of pizza at dinner time. Had she known that they would be overly consuming alcohol, she would have eaten more and ignored her nerves. She looked stupidly at the bottle, and wondered when and how she had almost drank the entire thing.

She was frowning at it when Adam took her now empty bottle, and handed her a beer, along with a muttered, "Maybe go eat something, Rachel," before he moved on to the next girl.

Quinn's orders apparently; for a portion of the night the four boys would be serving drinks before they were allowed to partake.

 _Quinn._

Quinn was sipping at a beer in a corner of the basement near the music station, gazing coolly around her at their team mates.

Rachel chugged the beer, and made her way towards Quinn.

She'd lost track of the beers she drank by the time she'd come to stand next to Quinn -and of the time. Rachel's goal was to get next to Quinn, to talk to Quinn, but in crossing the basement had faced obsicticals in the form her their teammates wanting to dance with her, or handing her another drink.

Rachel had danced with everyone it seemed like, on her way to Quinn, and was now a bit sweaty. Her hair had come loose at some point, and swirled around her in waves and the odd curl here and there.

Rachel felt great.

"Quinn," Rachel said, doing her best to not make it look as though she needed the walls help to stand up. "Quinn Quinn Quinn. Lucy Quinn."

Quinn glared at her. " _What_ did you call me."

"Lucy Quinn. Beautiful. You are beautiful. So... _beautiful_. I miss your scar. I miss _you_."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow, "You're _drunk_ Rachel Berry."

"No. Um. No, I _am_ not." Rachel said hotly.

"Yeah, yeah you are." Quinn looked away, and said something to someone that Rachel did not care about.

 _"_ _This was never the way I planned_ _  
_ _Not my intention_ _  
_ _I got so brave, drink in hand_ _  
_ _Lost my discretion_ _"_

"I hate this song. Who put it on? Was it you? You're blocking the music." Rachel couldn't move, because the wall was keeping her up.

Quinn was so close to her. So close.

 _"_ _It's not what, I'm used to_ _  
_ _Just wanna try you on_ _  
_ _I'm curious for you_ _  
_ _Caught my attention_ _"_

She smelled like peaches and vanilla. Rachel leaned as forward as she dared, and kissed Quinn.

It was nice.

When they pulled apart, Quinn shoved her away, and glared. Rachel was certain she was not imagining the quirk of a smile at the corner of Quinn's mouth.

 _"_ _It felt so right_

 _Don't mean I'm in love tonight  
I kissed a girl and I liked it  
I liked it_

 _No, I don't even know your name  
It doesn't matter  
You're my experimental game"_

"I dearly miss kissing you."

 _"_ _Just human nature_ _  
_ _It's not what, good girls do_ _  
_ _Not how they should behave_ _  
_ _My head gets so confused_ _  
_ _Hard to obey_ _"_

"We have never kissed before, Berry. And we will _never_ kiss again." Quinn didn't move Rachel's arm off her shoulders. Rachel felt so dizzy, she leaned her head against Quinn's shoulder. For a second, she could pretend this Quinn was her Quinn."I will never and have never been _your_ Quinn. You're going to run extra laps for a month for kissing me. I really hate this song, especially when everyone's drunk and everyone things it's a good idea to start kissing." Quinn wrapped an arm around Rachel.

 _"_ _I kissed a girl and I liked it_ _  
_ _The taste of her cherry chap stick_ _  
_ _I kissed a girl just to try it_ _  
_ _I hope my boyfriend don't mind it_ _  
_ _It felt so wrong_ _"_

Only to use it to move Rachel away from the wall and the mp3 player.

 _"It felt so right_ _  
_ _Don't mean I'm in love tonight_ _  
_ _I kissed a girl and I liked it_ _  
_ _I liked i-"_

The song cut off, but Rachel kept singing, raising her voice to go above the song Quinn put on.

 _"Us girls we are so magical  
Soft skin, red lips, so kissable  
Hard to resist so touchable  
Too good to deny it  
Ain't no big deal, it's innocent_

 _I kissed a girl and I liked it"_

Funny, she hadn't even really realized she was singing. Had she been singing this whole time?

"Don't touch the music, or me, _again_ Rachel," Quinn hissed into Rachel's ear, her breath hot on Rachel's skin.

"I did not."

"Uh-huh." Quinn turned and looked at Brittany, who was dancing on a table. With Santana. And Jade.

All three were in various states of undress.

Quinn wrapped an arm around her again. "Come on, you need to sit," Quinn muttered, and gently guided Rachel to the couch. To Rachel's surprise, again, Quinn sat next to her.

"Are you only sitting next to me because it's a better view of their dancing?"

"It's 2 am and I'm tired."

"There is no way it is that late," Rachel said hotly, "You have pretty hair. I like it long. You should keep it long. If that's what you want, it is your body...but I like it long." Rachel scooted closer to Quinn, put her arm around Quinn's shoulders, and rested her head there. Quinn sighed, but made no attempt to move her.

Someone. Finn.

 _Finn_ had told her when she was drunk she got clingy.

Well.

And Santana. Santana got emotional.

But Santana was dancing and laughing with Brittany.

So. He was wrong. About Santana, and her.

Possible. He was. _Is._ dumb.

Or Santana's not drunk. Santana was not Santana.

"Is Santana drunk," she whispered into Quinn's ear, "Santana isn't Santana wayway. Anyway."

"No. I asked her to stay sober. Soberish. With me." Quinn sipped at a wine cooler -it was clear, not pink. Oh.

"That's fake wine. Wine cooler."

"Yeah. Shhhh Rachel. Just close your eyes."

"I don't feel good."

"Have some water." Quinn handed her wine cooler bottle to Rachel. Rachel made no move to grab it." That's an official order Rachel. Drink some water."

"That's not water, that's fake wine cooler."

Quinn sighed. "Then have some fake wine cooler."

"Okay." Rachel drank half of it, fast, then handed it back to Quinn. She didn't want to move, didn't want to be apart from Quinn again.

"Now close your eyes."

"But I want to look at your hair."

"You can look at it tomorrow as you're running laps."

"Well. I suppose that is acceptable."

Quinn snorted, and Rachel closed her eyes -just for a moment, to appease Quinn.

* * *

Her neck hurt.

Her neck hurt, and her mouth was dry.

And she most _definitely_ had a headache.

"I can see you're awake Berry," Santana's cold voice interrupted her running through her aliments, "Have some Gatorade," A cold bottle of presumably the aforementioned Gatorade was set on top of her hand. "Drink it all. Slow -Quinn's orders. Failure to comply means the photos I took of you are printed out and posted in the locker room for a month."

Ignoring Santana, Rachel uncapped the bottle, and without opening her eyes brought it to her mouth.

Where she promptly hit herself in the lips with the bottle, making it slosh out a bit.

Santana laughed, and moved on, repeating her message.

The pain in her bladder, and the queasy feeling in her stomach forced her eyes open. She set her drink down on the coffee table, and sprinted up.

She threw up all over the floor.

Once she finished -her puke a vivid blue color matching the Gatorade she had drunk -she looked around, blinking her eyes at the light and wiping away the tears vomiting had caused.

Cheerios, all of them except Santana and Quinn, were sprawled around the room in various states -only a handful were awake, and Rachel's vomiting had caused at least two of them to vomit as well. Unfortunately one of the two were curled up in a pile of Cheerios -and the people closest to her were going to wake up covered in a considerable amount of vomit.

Rachel looked at the puddle of vomit, and then stepped neatly over it towards the bathroom.

Once she finished in there -vomiting herself, twice more, grateful that least it was in the toilet this time, she left to find that someone had set a bucket and cleaning supplies near her throw up.

She pushed up the sleeves of the Cheerio sweatshirt she was wearing -and she had no idea when she had put that on or if it was even her's, and quickly cleaned it up.

She puked, again, in the bucket just as she was finishing.

"Ugh." She wiped at her mouth, finished cleaning, then stood up and stumbled to the bathroom. She rinsed her mouth, and dumped the bucket in the sink, rinsing out the sponge and refilling it with warm water.

Avoiding looking at the vomit next to Estella, she set the bucket next to the moaning girl and went to find her bag. She needed her tooth brush. Desperately.

She did not remember much of last night, beyond drinking some concoction Jade had made that they drank together as they danced, and telling Jade over and over that they should give some to Quinn, and dance with Quinn as well. She hoped she did not do something regretful -and that she hoped she had not spoke about the future. Or that if she had, everyone else's memories were spotty or non-existent as her's.

She sighed, and stared at the fort someone had made of their luggage. Why did she think it was a good idea to bring her Cheerio duffle bag, and leave it unlabeled? It was going to take her a while to find her bag, given that it seemed like almost everyone else had brought theirs as well.

* * *

"Alright," Quinn gazed coolly at all of them, "Now that we are all clean, awake, and hydrated" a process that had taken some time, "We will spend the day resting and watching movies." Quinn looked at Santana.

"Mean Girls. Sugar and Spice. Clueless." Santana drawled. "Then we'll finish up with Heathers, Sixteen Candles, and For Keeps."

"We should all be well rested and feeling better by then." Quinn's gaze seemed to pierce through Rachel. "Then it's time for more team bonding."

Jillian raised her hand, and Quinn nodded at her, "Um. Will it involve more drinking, because I don't think I can handle another night like last night so soon."

"No. We'll be doing more traditional bonding exercises that you can actually tell your parents about." Quinn yawned, and nodded at Santana who popped the first movie into the dvd player.

This set off a flurry of activity as all the remaining twenty Cheerios who weren't Santana, Brittany, and Quinn scrambled for a spot to be comfortable, moving here and there, sprawling over each other and arguing over pillows and trying to sneak more blankets.

Rachel ended up in between Estella and Jade, the three of them leaning against some pillows propped on a wall with a decent, but not great, view of the television. "My mom's won't let me watch this movie," Estella muttered, then yawned, "I think it reminds them too much of high school." Estella tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and wiggled into the pillows trying to get comfortable.

"My mom was a dork in high school, we watched this movie and she cried, and told me how the popular kids would dump milk on the kids they didn't like." Jade stretched a leg out and added "She went to McKinley too."

"Yeah, my mom's moved here from Pennsylvania before I was born. They said they picked a bunch of low cost of living towns and pulled Lima from a hat. Of course, they won't tell me why Pennsylvania was so bad they were willing to move to Ohio," Estella rolled her eyes, then yawned.

"Daddy lived here his whole life, but Papa moved here from North Carolina right before they met," Rachel offered, then yawned too. "I have not seen this movie -or any of the ones we will be watching. Dads prefer to watch older movies from the heydays of Hollywood." And of course, until very recently Rachel had not had more than one or two friends close enough to visit them at their homes, and had any of them suggested watching any such movies, Rachel would have treated the suggestion with derision.

"And probably think you're too immature for them," Estella smirked.

Rachel did not rise to the bait and reply to it -after years of dealing with the worst Santana and Quinn had to give, with an army of cheerleaders behind them, then, of course, the apocalypse Estella's little digs were merely an annoyance.

Then again, Jade was watching them intently. Rachel tilted her head slightly, and stared at Estella. They had met a few times before -Estella's mothers and Rachel's dads shared a few mutual friends, and were acquaintances. Every now and they'd see each other at parties. Parties where Rachel had found more gratification getting attention from the adults then attempting to befriend the children. "Do you recall that time you wet yourself at the Tiller's summer barbeque? At last year's party?"

Estella turned red, and spat out, "Last year? We were _seven!_ The Tiller's broke up and moved like a year later, they didn't even _live_ in Lima last year!"

Jade started giggling, and her giggles grew louder until she was outright laughing, making more than a few heads turn their way. Estella glared at Rachel, who kept the placid smile on her face, not breaking their gaze. Finally, Estella, jaw tight, turned her glare at the couch, before she stood up and stomped away.

Jade's laughter died down back to a giggle, and Estella's vacated spot was quickly claimed by Pauline.

* * *

Later -much later, that night Rachel found herself unable to sleep as she laid in her sleeping bag. She was between Jade and Pauline; Jade kept twitching as she slept, while Pauline was snoring softly.

It would have been somewhat comforting normally.

But she barely knew these girls, or most of the other people in the room. She had trouble sleeping the handful of sleepovers she had attended at Santana's, Hannah's, or Tina's house, chalking it up to uncertainly of herself and her role in Brittany's Cheerio plan. Sleeping pills had helped considerably, but ultimately she had started declining sleepovers unless they were at Brittany's house.

Last night she had passed out from too much drink -her face flushed at the thought, but that was absolutely _not_ an option tonight.

She sighed softly, and finally sat up.

From the pull out couch where she was next to Santana and Quinn, Brittany did the same. Silently, the other girl elegantly untangled herself from the other two, and nodded at the stairs.

They crept up the basement stairs without a word, and out the door. Rachel let out a slow breathe as they stood in the kitchen. The moon light shone through the windows, and Rachel felt herself relax ever so slightly.

"Sometimes, I can't seem to fall asleep." Brittany said, fiddling with the frayed end of the t-shirt she was wearing -another neon smiley face one, but a different color then the one Rachel had worn. Rachel, even as tired as she was, couldn't help but hope Santana was annoyed by them wearing basically the same t-shirt this weekend.

Rachel did not know what to say, so she simply nodded.

"You don't either, that's why you have the sleeping pills. Even at your house."

"Yes."

Brittany slide down the wall smoothly, and patted the floor next to her.

"Remember when we parked on that road in the woods, and set up the tents? Blaine took watch, and I slept so well because I knew he'd pay a lot of attention and make sure nothing happened to us."

"Shortly after we left the cabin, and found Quinn? Yes." Somewhat vaguely -mostly she remembered how sad Quinn was to learn about Mack, how Quinn refused to entertain the thought of a relationship at that time, how happy the children were at the thought of the puppies. She hesitated for a second, then added, "I still do not understand how you and your cat managed to take the children and dogs without getting caught."

Brittany grinned at her, "I've time traveled way more then you and planned ahead since I knew what was going to happen."

Normally Rachel would write that off as one of those weird things Brittany said for whatever reason the other girl had to say such things, but given that Rachel had personally time traveled as well... it was incredibly difficult to know if Brittany was merely teasing her or not.

"I am not sure what to say to that Brittany."

Brittany giggled, then added, "Anyway. I think because someone I trusted was watching over me, over us, while we slept so I felt really safe so I could sleep easy. I don't feel like that here or even at Santana's house. Yet. And I think you're too scared to sleep that well and it gives you nightmares so you'd rather have the sleeping pills. You use them a lot more now then you did when you first came back."

"That is very insightful Brittany." She was not going to touch Brittany's comment about her sleeping pill use increasing; they were available to buy over the counter, which meant they were perfectly safe to take .

"I get nightmares too sometimes. I don't like killing people. I don't want to, but I know I'll probably have too," Brittany whispered.

"I do not know what it says about me that I have no issues about killing," Rachel could not bring herself to look at Brittany.

"You're a very goal driven person Rachel. And your goal now is survival, so you'll do what you have to do. Just like before your goal was Broadway, so you did what you have to do without feeling bad about it."

"I felt bad about it!" Rachel hissed.

"Like a little kid, sorry that you got caught and had consequences for stealing from the cookie jar, not actually sorry you stole the cookies that were meant for everyone that Lord Tubbington worked really hard to make. Like when you sent that girl to a crack house, and we got mad about it because she didn't like the rest of us anymore and went to the other glee club."

Rachel worried at her lip, unsure about what to say. She was not even sure if Brittany was _right_ or not.

"I don't think it's a bad thing, even if you did bad things. No one was going to just _hand_ Broadway to you, and you were going to be up against other people just as talented and pretty in New York who wanted the same thing and were willing to do the same things to get it." Brittany leaned over too closely, and stared at Rachel, "And now it's the same thing. It's going to take a certain type of person to survive what's coming. That's you. That's Santana. And you guys need people like me -and Quinn, even if she really wants to be like you, to be there with you to make sure you _want_ to survive. "

"You are very astute, Brittany."

"Yeah. Lord Tubbington and I have had a lot more time to think about this then you."

"Indeed." Knowing Brittany -especially before Brittany had known Rachel was back, she _had_ talked in depth with Lord Tubbington. "I am not sure I will be able to handle sleeping at Cheer camp."

"Bring your sleeping pills. A lot, in case I'll need some. We'll put our tents next to each other, a little always from the others. Santana won't like it, but I don't like that she's dating Puck so." Brittany shrugged, then wrapped her arms around herself.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Brittany shook her head, "No. I was stupid and messed up, there's nothing to say."

"You are _not_ stupid."

Brittany simply shrugged, frowning down at her llama slippers.

Eventually, they went back downstairs. Rachel laid in her sleeping bag, and dozed here and there but was not able to get any true sleep.

Before Rachel knew it, it was Sunday evening and she was at home after LeRoy had picked her up from Quinn's house. She was exhausted, but overall felt pleasant and pleased with herself.

Brittany was a genius, and next time she suggested something as outlandish as Rachel joining the Cheerios, Rachel would not hesitate to do so or voice any misgivings.

Rachel's good mood continued through dinner with her dads, and through a rewatch of 'Funny Girl' she convinced them to have after dinner. It had been quite a while since they had watched a musical together.

The night ended on a superb note, all three Berrys in a good mood -Rachel was even certain LeRoy went back to the master bedroom.

Monday morning, they awoke to find Starla had her stroke.

This time, Rachel accompanied her dads to the veterinarian's office, holding Starla and whispering apologizes. She had not been there when Starla had died before. She had ignored the dog. She had been annoyed at the dog for taking too long to find a spot to urinate.

Starla managed to give Rachel's face a lick, which made Rachel cry harder. She took that as Starla accepting Rachel's apology and switched to telling Starla what a very good dog she was, and had been.

Once they were parked, Hiram carried Starla into the office LeRoy and Rachel, with her arms wrapped around him, her face in his side as she sobbed, followed behind them. They were quickly seen by the veterinarian.

Far too soon the Berry family were going home, minus one member.

They would pick up Starla's ashes in a few days. Well, LeRoy and Hiram would -by then Rachel would be at cheer camp.

She snuffled, her arms wrapped around herself. She felt so badly, and kept trying to rationalize the pain away -she _knew_ this was coming, had been given a second chance with Starla, and had spent far more time with Starla.

Odd, how all that logic still did not make it hurt any less.

The bus ride to camp, Rachel was comforted by her fellow cheerleaders about Starla's passing, and even about being away from her parents for so long for the first time.

It was absolutely lovely to be able to open up a bit, be heard and respected and have camaraderie with her peers. Including Quinn. Who delicately kept the conversation flowing, and ensured everyone participated. Over all it was yet another good bonding experience -a very nice way to pass the six hour bus ride to cheer camp, which would undoubtedly be a great experience.

* * *

Cheer camp was an awesome 3 weeks. She didn't have sex with that boy from Nevada -and neither did Santana.

Well. It was an awesome 3 weeks for _her._

Brittany tried to be a good person. Within reason. She still bought new clothes even though she knew they were probably made by people paid only 2 dollars a day, and when the world ended she'd kill people, but only the really bad ones who really deserved to die.

Sometimes, Rachel was _too_ Rachely and annoyed Brittany. Rachel was super definitely better now, especially since she'd joined the Cheerios which had been half the point of her joining.

But still.

Rachel just _had_ to go and sing at Cheer Camp karaoke. Like, it was nice for them to win against the other Cheer teams -Coach Sylvester really liked it, and they hadn't before, but Rachel went way too far.

Rachel had stared at Quinn, had demanded eye contact the entire 6 minutes and 53 seconds Rachel was on stage. Rachel had _danced_ in what she probably thought was a sexy seductive way, but had actually been an awkward, too slow way. And she'd done all that while singing. She'd sung "Fever" then "I Put a Spell on You" -and both had been amazing, but still.

It was nice in a way that Rachel was still Rachel deep down inside. Dramatic and doing depressing relationship things because Rachel was just super desperate about not being alone. Rachel couldn't have made it any more obvious she was into Quinn. Rachel probably totally brought up feelings in Quinn that Quinn didn't _want,_ and being Quinn, she's acting like Quinn. Except even _more_ Quinn now.

And the rest of the team were taking that and running with it. Rachel didn't have many fans in the first place because almost all the people that had flocked to her when she was almost captain had flown away, and Santana and Estella really didn't like her and made it super obvious, and well -Rachel, even the apocalypse time traveling Rachel, just had this thing about her that made people not like her. Which is why she clung so hard to the people that _did_ like her.

Brittany loved Santana more than anyone. Duh. They were soul mates. Well, except Tiffany. Tiffany's so little and Brittany loves her a lot, but Brittany _really_ loved the idea of Tiffany growing up and being an old lady. So that's what Brittany loved more than Santana. But after Tiffany was an adult -because she _would_ be this time, Santana's number one. At least until they had kids, because then _them_ being adults and old people would be number one. Brittany wouldn't love them more then Santana though, but she'll love them differently.

Brittany couldn't do anything else to mess things up with Santana. She was really really scared that she'd mess up so bad Santana doesn't come back. Brittany doesn't know what she'd do then. She doesn't want to think about it. Thinking about it makes her feel like she did after Tiffany died, and that makes sense because Santana - _her_ Santana, would be dead.

So she can't mess that up, and that means not trying to help Rachel with Quinn and Santana and the other Cheerios.

She felt bad for Rachel, but Rachel _did_ do it to herself, and it was still not as bad as it could be. And it wouldn't last forever.

Rachel sat by herself in the worst seat -the one by the bathroom, a sad look on her face as she scribbled on her clipboard something. Brittany must have looked at Rachel too long because in the seat next to her Santana shuffled. "Are you seriously still going to go to her grandma's house after we get back?"

"Yeah. Mom and Dad are out of town, and Tiffany's already with Hiram and LeRoy. We're going to can peaches, and I'm going to make a pie to take to your Abuela's house." Her parents had went on this trip before too, but they'd taken Tiffany with them and left Brittany with the neighbors. This was a change Brittany liked.

Her parents didn't think she was stupid any more.

The three of them were also going to go to the archery range with Terri in the morning before Brittany and Tiffany went to Santana's house. Oliver and Tiffany had two little kid bows that weren't really good for much, but they all agreed it was good to start getting the kids used to using knives and bows responsibly. Even all the way in Kentucky, Sam was doing a lot of summer work mowing lawns and pet sitting and whatever else he could so that he could get his sister's pocket knives and them all some basic bows.

Santana sighed dramatically, "Well. I do like pie. Better make two, if you can -you know there's always a lot of us at Abuela's. Don't let Rachel touch it though." Then Santana rolled her eyes, and slumped against the seat. It sent a little pang through Brittany, because if Brittany hadn't messed up so much already, Santana would have leaned against _her._

Rachel kept trying to make eye contact with Brittany, and Brittany ignored her. There'd be a lot of time to talk to Rachel later, and right now Brittany just wanted to be with Santana -a Santana who was relaxed, not being that mean, and clearly wanted to be with Brittany even if Santana wouldn't admit it.

* * *

Rachel excitedly told LeRoy and Hiram all about camp -the good bits. She doesn't tell them about the bad bits, like Santana cutting all of Rachel's sports bras in half, and Rachel had to use safety pins to keep one together for the rest of camp. Or Estella putting honey in Rachel's tent which attracted ants. Or someone throwing away Rachel's tooth brush so Rachel's teeth hadn't been brushed except what some toothpaste on a washrag could do.

Brittany tunes her, and her dads gushing over her, out to focus on Tiffany who's in her car seat in between Brittany and Rachel. Tiffany is babbling about her day and Brittany's making the happy noises about it, giving the toddler her full attention, which Tiffany loved. Tiffany's been at the Berry house since last night, and one of Rachel's dads had somehow braided her clump of blonde hair into two french braids. It's really cute.

Brittany really loved her sister. "Did you feed Lincoln and Lord Tubbington this morning?" Chores were important, even at her age, and of course LeRoy or Hiram had kept an eye out, and cleaned up afterwards and made sure the animals were actually fed, but it was the idea now that was important.

"Yeah!"

"Remember we need to use our quiet voice," Brittany chirped.

"Yeah." Tiffany said quieter.

So was learning to be quiet, and doing what you were told. It could save her life one day.

 _"Do you know what we're doing tomorrow?"_

"Bows 'n Ollie?"

"Yes!" Brittany chirped again, "We're going to the archery range and seeing Ollie and his mom. Do you know what we're doing after that?"

Tiffany shook her head, and grinned, "Ice cream?" That was her answer for almost everything.

" _No, we're going to Santana's grandma's house."_

" _Grandma has cookies?"_ Tiffany's Spanish was really good, for an 18 month old. Santana had started talking in only Spanish to her, and Brittany did about half and half by now. Little kids were great at learning this stuff, their brains were basically sponges. Brittany wasn't sure if knowing Spanish would be helpful later or not, but it couldn't hurt.

Brittany laughed, "I don't think so."

Tiffany pouted, and Brittany tickled her until she was giggling, then started telling her all about Cheer camp, still switching between Spanish and English for the rest of the drive.

In a surprising fit of self control, Rachel managed to not bug Brittany about camp until the three of them were standing in front of Miss Henrietta's house.

3 seconds after the adult Berrys drive away, Rachel took 2 seconds to play with the strap of Tiffany's diaper bag that she'd picked up for Brittany while Brittany grabbed Queenie and Tiffany, then blurted out, "What did I do?"

The tone of her voice makes Brittany sad. So she laid it out simply for Rachel, finishing with, "I mean it's kinda nice that you're still you deep down inside but you definitely probably brought up feelings in her that she doesn't _want,_ and being Quinn, she's acting like Quinn. Except even _more_ Quinn."

"And the rest of the team is following suit." Rachel's voice is small and even sadder now.

Brittany nodded, "Sorry. I'd work on her, but it's really hard because me and Santana aren't me and Santana? Last time I think Quinn was toned down because we were clearly soul mates _,_ but we aren't like that right now, Quinn's never really _known_ us like that so...And I also don't want to risk not being her friend. You need to remember she's not yours, just like Santana's not mine."

"That was Quinn toned _down?_ " Rachel looked away, nodding, "Very well, I understand. You do not want to change too much more then what has already been changed."

"Yeah. Sorry." Tiffany tossed Queenie down, and Brittany picked the purple unicorn up, "I'm probably going to have to join in being mean to you. Quinn's getting annoyed that I haven't. But when school starts, no one will be mean when there's other students around because it'll go against the Cheerio solidarity."

"Perhaps I should just quit the team Brittany." Rachel's voice is really small.

Brittany shook her head, her ponytail flicking back and forth, brushing Tiffany's face lightly, making the toddler giggle. "No. It'll be way way _way_ worse if you did that. Like, she's put you on the bottom of the pyramid, nitpicks at your hair, and everyone's realized you're like her least favorite person so they do mean things to you like Santana cutting your bras... you're basically _all_ she talks about, but if you quit it'd be at least 89 times worse."

"I am not sure if I can handle this Brittany -no one will engage me in conversation, or even _sit_ by me."

"I talk to you."

Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes, and she sniffled. Brittany frowned, "Don't cry Rachel. I'll make sure you have people to talk to besides me, okay? I bet Miss Mildred is wondering why we haven't come in yet."

Rachel nodded, and accepted Queenie, who Tiffany was holding out towards her with a concerned look on her face.

As they walked to the front door, Brittany went through the Freshmen Cheerios, writing off them one by one. Estella disliked Rachel almost as much as Santana did. Hannah was fairly ambivalent about her.

Jade. Jade and Pauline.

Brittney would just have to make sure that Quinn disliked those two as much as she did Rachel, so they'd be treated the same and Rachel would have some company until Quinn got over it, or Santana came back and helped Brittany fix things. Whichever came first.

It wouldn't be that hard. She knew Quinn really really well. It was going to definitely hurt team solidarity, and probably affect them winning at their competitions but whatever punishments Coach Sue put them through as a team would make them stronger.

Maybe she could talk Quinn into letting Lord Tubbington join the team. _He_ liked Rachel, and was a great conversationalist.

* * *

"Whew girls, these look good," Miss Henrietta gazed at the half dozen peach pies cooling on the table, then spared a glance at the black kit cat clock -that Rachel was sure was older then LeRoy at the least, "We still have some time before LeRoy arrives -how about we enjoy one of the pies?" On the counter, there were two dozen successfully canned jars of peaches -Miss Mildred had apparently brought over quite a few bushels of peaches at some point before Rachel had returned.

"One of mine -and please be honest about how you feel about the taste and texture," Rachel said, sliding one of the almost cooled peach pies closer to Miss. Henrietta. In answer, Miss Henrietta started slicing. And Tiffany -who had been occupied knawing on peach slices, mashing some dough, and was clearly almost ready to go to bed for the night shouted "Pie!"

"What do we say?" Miss Henrietta stared at Tiffany.

Tiffany stared back, and asked, "Please!?" She had that slight mispronunciation most toddlers had, and her tiny girly little voice -she was _heartbreakingly_ adorable.

"Good girl," Miss Henrietta cooed at the toddler.

Jealousy rose in Rachel, and she stepped closer to Miss Henrietta, "Try the first bite please?"

Miss Henrietta turned her gaze towards Rachel..and by the quirk of her smile, Rachel was almost certain she knew Rachel had a fleeting feeling of jealously about a toddler.

She had managed to put on a happy face and not allow her great grandmother to see that she was incredibly down and dejected.

Cheer camp had been an excellent learning experience. It was hard rigorous work, and what time they weren't practicing & learning they were bonding. They had a few hours of free time to relax and unwind shortly before bed, in small single person tents grouped together. Quinn always made sure they talked about their day, what ways they could improve, and had some time to vent about the fact they slept in tents instead of cabins.

Rachel had started to feel accepted, and had started to understand why Brittany had wanted Rachel on the team. Comradery. Belonging.

Which is why she was so surprised and utterly bewildered when quite suddenly, Quinn, and the team, turned _cold._

In public, around the adults and the other campers, it had been fine. In private, Rachel was ignored and occasionally mocked and had a prank or five pulled on her. Estella's little digs turned much more mean, and the others followed suit -some, especially Santana, _gleefully._

She would trust Brittany, and hope the blonde girl was right.

* * *

Oliver Schuster and Tiffany were adorable, and super adorable when they were together. The two toddlers had played around with their little kid bow and arrows set in a portable playpen while the three of them practiced their archery and talked about things -mostly Terri. Terri was 23 weeks pregnant, had morning sickness that didn't know it should have stopped by now, and right now was on her tiny sliver of break before her final semester of classes and interning. Terri already had a job lined up at the biggest hospital in Lima for after she graduated, and they'd had a plan about that hospital when the world ended, a plan that made Brittany worry a little less.

Terri was pregnant, grumpy, and impatient about finding a property and setting it up.

Brittany was too, but Rachel was right. None of the properties they'd seen yet were the one, and they still didn't a ton of money yet so it'd made sense to wait.

Brittany wanted to find a place already, and start making it a home. A home they'd have, protect, and survive in the rest of their lives.

She'd started knitting a big fluffy warm blanket for her and Santana's bed, and after she was done with that she'd start making blankets for everyone else's beds.

Brittany liked spending time with Rachel's dads, and the three of them as a family. They were nice.

Santana's grandma was mean. But her house was always full of Santana's relatives, and it really felt like a home. Like Santana's home, more than the house Santana had with her parents.

The only bad thing Brittany had to say about Alma was that she detested cats, which was stupid because cats were awesome.

* * *

School started on a balmy September day.

It was utterly _surreal_ how people looked at Rachel, from that first moment she stepped foot inside the building her hair in a high ponytail, Cheerio uniform crisp, sneakers white, with _respect._

Her classmates talked to her in class, wide eyed with awe and often trying to sit by her, purely because of the uniform she was wearing.

People flocked towards her, because she, Rachel Barbra Berry, was cool and popular.

Jacob Ben Israel's obsession with her was magnified, yet instead of being a creep trying to get her underwear, he treated her with a respect he had never done so before.

It was irritating, that he was doing so simply because she was a Cheerio, and Rachel had zero issues siccing Jade and Pauline on him -with the rest of the Cheerios following suite, because Brittany had been correct about the Cheerio solidarity in front of the other students.

Before, Jacob Ben Israel had an air of fear and respect about him because he somehow became the editor of the newspaper as a freshman, and ran the gossip blog.

Now people treated him like the joke he was.

It was immensely satisfying.

Not so great was how the trio were treated when it was just Cheerios. They had not been invited to many of the get togethers the other Cheerios threw during the remaining two weeks of summer, and were all put on the bottom of the pyramid and given extra laps at practice.

Not that Rachel minded running, but still.

She still had no idea what Brittany had said or done to get the Cheerios to turn on Jade and Pauline as well. She had not had a chance to ask, yet, as Brittany's schedule was jammed pack between practice, Cheerio events, doubling the amount of time she spent with Santana in an effort to keep Santana from spending much time with Puck, and her Driver's ED classes. When Rachel did speak to her at their weekly check ins with Terri and Sam, there was no time to talk about such mundane things like Rachel's status with Quinn and the other Cheerios.

Miss Mildred had found Sebastian, and was working on making contact with him, to Rachel's considerable surprise. She did not know much details yet, but Miss Mildred said if she had to, she would go to France and bring him back herself. Rachel was certain the elderly woman was exaggerating.

Things were okay with her parents. Not great, but not terrible either.

She was fine.

Really.

Truly.

She was shuffling things in her locker -she had a different one then before, near the bathrooms and almost wondered if Quinn had enough pull to get her moved there, when she noticed Brittany, Santana, Estella and other Cheerios milling around, slowly heading her way.

She put in a brilliant smile. Don't show weakness to them, or their fellow students.

Behind them, Jacob Ben Israel was slushied quite a bit down the hall by someone in the God Squad, and Rachel's smile turned real. She watched him stare down at his ruined sweater vest, slushy dripping from his afro. Coach Tanaka walked by him, clearly ignored the slushying, and kept walking. Rachel barely noticed Santana tripping on her own feet into the lockers.

Santana said something to Estella, and the other girl slunked away. Then Brittany and Santana had a rapid, whispered conversation.

Something was going on. She brushed past Kurt -who flinched away from her, and crepty towards them, catching Santana saying, "-Should be in Heaven."

"Perhaps we should go into the bathroom," Rachel suggested, mindful of the other Cheerios starting to come towards them.

As soon as they were in the bathroom -and quickly checked it was empty, Santana stared at both of them then said, "So we've... traveled back in time?"

Rachel nodded, "Yes. And it seems to vary on when we wake up -Brittany did soonest. I woke up some months after she did. Sam...Sam did so when he was seven."

"God, poor Sam. That's why you kept taking that dance class you dropped! Because Rachel was taking it too! It all makes sense now…" Santana muttered, a frown on her face, "This is a little confusing."

Rachel nodded, her eyes darting to the door.

"Rachel, we'll see you after school, okay?" Brittany smiled at Rachel. Rachel snorted lightly, clearly getting that obvious hint Brittany was giving.

She opened her arms, and gave Santana a quick hug, then darted out of the bathroom, to the waiting Cheerios.

* * *

They made out for 9 minutes, after the final bell rung.

They were both alive, and both here, right now.

Brittany craved Santana, _her_ Santana, like she'd craved sunlight when she and Tina were locked away in the darkness 72.6 days.

Guided by hormones and love and happiness, they had gotten into Brittany's mom's car. Brittany wasn't supposed to be driving without an adult with her permit, but her parents thought she was mature enough, and such a good driver, it was okay.

They hadn't let her do that before, hadn't even let her get her permit until she was almost 17. But now she had her VW in the garage, painting and fixing it up after her dad had a mechanic put a diseal engine in it. She had bet with her dad who would win the Kentucky Derby, and won, duh, because she was from the future and used the money for the engine and luggage rack for the roof. One of Santana's uncles owed her a favor and had come over to Brittany's house with a spray gun and painted the outside white and pale pink. The inside still needed a lot of work though.

Santana's house was closest, so that's where Brittany drove. It took 11 minutes too long. She tried to explain to Santana everything they had done so far, and planned to do, but gave up after 3 minutes. They drove in silence, just enjoying this moment of being together.

They were alive, and together, and there would be time for talking later, now was the time for other things.

She parked across the street from the house.

46 seconds later, Brittany and Santana were shedding their clothes as they walked through Santana's front door.

Brittany missed this. She missed Santana's kisses. The way Santana knows her body. Santana's touch.

She missed _her_ Santana.

And she had her now.

Had her so much that she can't think about anything but _her_ now -not even the numbers, unless she's counting Santana's breathes or Santana's gasps or Santana's moans.

They don't hear Santana's parents come home, entering the house discussing Santana's upcoming Quinceanera with Alma.

They don't realize the three Lopez's are in the house until Alma dropped the platter she was holding and it landed on the ground, breaking into 32 pieces. Santana jumps off of Brittany, and the table, and stood defensively in front of her.

And at first, for 2 seconds, all Brittany feels is really bad for Santana, because Santana's back and she's still not used to not having to worry and be on guard all the time.

Then she realizes that Santana's parents and grandmother are standing there, looking at them both.

Brittany and Santana are naked. Covered in sex, the scent surrounding around them, light bruises and hickys already all over their bodies.

Brittany groped for her Cheerio top, and can only find Santana's. She pulled it on, and can't find her skirt or spanks, just her half torn underwear, which she pulls on anyway because it was better than nothing. Then she stood in front of Santana, who was still frozen. All four Lopez's were, and Brittany doesn't know what to say, or do, besides stand in front of Santana.

"Brittany." Santana's mom finally says, "Please _leave._ " She sounds sad and disappointed and _angry._ It was wrong of them to have sex on the Lopez dining room table, and skip school to do it, but that shouldn't make Mrs. Lopez _sad._

"Mrs. Lopez," Brittany started to say.

 _"Now."_ It's that Mom voice that demands obedience.

So Brittany grabbed her sneaker -her socks are missing too, and goes out the kitchen side door, tossing Santana one of the dish towels as she does.

She doesn't go far. She waits on the sidewalk, sitting down to pull her shoes on. When Alma leaves she'll duck back around the house, and then sneak up the tree to Santana's window.

She doesn't know what to expect.

Brittany's parents thought her bisexuality was a phase she'd grow out of, and that she was influenced into it by Santana. Because they thought she was dumb.

They'd have loved any grandkids Brittany & Santana gave them, and kept any comments about meeting a man and having a husband to a minimum. They might even have put up a wedding photo for guests to see. As long as Brittany loved Santana, they'd tolerate Santana and keep their secret hopes Brittany dated a boy instead to themselves, or at least not to Brittany.

Brittany doesn't know how Santana's parents are going to react. She thinks maybe they'll be okay with it, like her parents. Maybe. They aren't all that religious, but still are a little bit -and more then Brittany's parents. Of course, Brittany's parents don't think she's dumb anymore, so who knows how they'll react now. Maybe the same, but maybe not.

43 minutes pass before someone exits the Lopez home. It's not Alma, though.

"Sanny?" Brittany whispered.

Santana sniffled, and wiped at her eyes. "Can you help me pack my stuff?"

"What's going on?"

"They...they talked while I was cleaning up, and it was either go to a therapist," Santana made jerking, angry finger quotes as she said the word therapist, "and never see you again, or I'm not their daughter. Or grand daughter." Santana won't look at her, just glared at the house.

"I'm sorry. You just got back, just got them back. Maybe you should -" Brittany started to say, her heart breaking a little at the thought.

Santana interrupted her, "I almost agreed -I _almost_ said yes, and I'd just lie and see you anyway, because I love them and I know what's going to happen. _But I couldn't do that. I love you so much, more than anyone or anything._ They're letting me pack up my stuff, but they want me to go in through the back so they won't see me. _Abuela and mom are still crying._..." Santana looked like how she looked after Tiffany died.

But Tiffany was still alive. They all were.

Brittany took Santana into her arms, and just hugged her for a full 3 minutes. When they pulled apart, Santana sniffled again, and wiped at her eyes, and they both ignored the wet tear stained spot on Brittany's top. Without a word Santana lead the way through the side yard to the backdoor.

It took them 22 minutes to pack up Santana's stuff. Packing to never come back came naturally to them -they did it without having to say they were doing it, but Brittany really hoped that Santana could come home in a day or two, that both of them would apologize and Santana's parents would lecture them for being rude and having premarital sex unprotected in the Lopez kitchen.

Except it wasn't premarital. Maybe if they told Santana's parents that, it would help.

They loaded the car up with Santana's things in two trips. When they tried to go back for the third and last trip, for the last few things, they found the back door locked.

Brittany held Santana's hand, and guided Santana to the car silently. She was glad they hadn't walked to Santana's house.

While they had been loading the car, Brittany had been thinking. "Quinn's going to be weird, since you and I weren't a known thing this time. My parents won't agree to let you stay with us, because I'm sure your dad is calling mom or will. So I'm going to take you to Rachel's house." Santana doesn't live that far from Rachel. Brittany doesn't bother to remind Santana of that, though."You won't be okay staying with anyone other then us. Sam's in Kentucky. Sebastian's in France. Terri's pregnant and grumpy, plus she'd have to explain to Mr. Schue why you were there."

Santana thought about it for a minute, then shrugged, "You're right."

"I bet Mr. Berry and Mr. Berry could talk to your parents and tell them about how bad those therapy places are. You could be home in a few days."

Santana shrugged, then looked Brittany in her eyes. "I choose _you_ Brittany. I'll always choose you. I'd choose you over anyone. I love you the most -I will _always_ love you the most.*"

"I love you to infinity Santana.*" Brittany leaned over, and planted a gentle kiss on Santana's forehead. "It's okay to cry. I know this is really sad, and I should probably wait until tomorrow but does your cousin still make fake ids? Because I want to get married to you again. We'll wait for rings until after the apocalypse so we can loot some really expensive ones. I'll get you a diamond so big Lord Tubbington will steal it. He used to be an international jewelry thief, you know."

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. Brittany smiled reassuringly at her, and Santana took a couple of deep breaths, then managed to say, "I thought he was part dragon, and that's why he covets jewelry."

"That too."

Reluctantly, Brittany let go of Santana's hand, and started the car, and 3 minutes later they were parked in front of Rachel's house. Santana stared at Rachel's front door. "I really don't want to live with Rachel."

"Are you worried her dads will make you dress like she used too?"

" _Now_ I am." Santana wrapped her arms around herself. "You have no idea how much I hated her. Like a lot. I thought you and her were...and that's why you and I weren't."

"Ew, well we weren't." Brittany leaned against Santana, then added hesitantly, "I think with some time and Mr. and Mr. Berry talking to them -maybe even Estella's moms, you can go home before they turn you into Rachel 2.0."

"As long as I'm with you Brittany, I _am_ home. Okay?" Santana wiped at her eyes, and opened the car door, "Come on, let's get this over with."

Santana started walking to the front door. Brittany followed her, decided that 6 was a good number.

When she got home, she'd call 6 Cheerios and they'd sneak out and egg Santana's house -and Dr. Lopez's new car.

If she explained that Santana's parents kicked her out and that's why they needed egging, Coach would probably help, or at least provide an alibi. She'd let Santana tell everyone _why_ her parents kicked her out, though, if she wanted to tell people.

Santana had time to tell people when she was ready.

* * *

 **A/N:** In the show, Santana said her parents were 'okay' with her being a lesbian. Okay can mean a lot of things. A good friend of mine's parents were 'okay' she was a lesbian, but that meant they didn't want to meet her now-wife until they'd been dating for years, didn't pay for her wedding like they did her sister's wedding, and didn't acknowledge my friend's son because her wife gave birth to him and he isn't biologically related to them. But they were _totally_ okay she was a lesbian.

If they hadn't decided to stunt cast Santana's mom, maybe we would have got a bit more from that 'okay', but probably not, knowing the Glee writers. Did the character Gloria Estavan played seem like a parent who would let her child get a boob job in high school? As I say a lot -I don't go by stunt casting & the resulting plot choices, and I had a particular image of some parents in mind when I started the first outline of this story way back when the early seasons of Glee were still airing. So, yeah. Maybe if Alma hadn't of been with them her parents wouldn't have felt so strongly about this, but maybe not. There's a big difference between telling your parents, and having them find out by seeing you having sex with your best friend in their kitchen.

A couple of you asked about Estella's moms. Yes -they _are_ an aged up Emily  & Allison from Pretty Little Liars. This isn't a true crossover, and if you don't know anything about them or that show you'll be fine. It's just a fun little Easter egg, they'll be minor mostly background characters. :)

*Almost direct quotes by Brittany & Santana, from S6E3, S6E6 & S4E4 respectively. Not mine.

 **As always, signed reviews get a sneak peek of the next chapter, in addition to me replying to any questions/comments/concerns you may have.**

Follow me at gee13 on tumblr for writing stuff if you're so inclined. :D


	6. Nutbush City Limits

**A/N:** This is still a very rough draft version of this chapter, but with how long it's taken me to final draft it I decided it was better to post it as is and move on, fixing it at a later date. It is subpar and frankly I'm embarrassed to post it; it lacks some scenes (that are simply noted in [[['s), has my notes here and there, is almost certainly missing the things for you readers to connect a to c that I already know but haven't written, needs to be really edited to fit Santana's voice & frame of mind, and doesn't set up some things & relationships it needs to yet. **But it's been almost a** ** _year_** **, so here it is.** I'll post a note in an author's note when I do edit it so you can come back to it and read the better version.

I did have a much better version that was 96% complete however, it was written in a notebook (as I wrote it out during a class that didn't allow laptops) but before I decided to type up the chapter, the notebook was ruined along with some other things in my apartment. Lesson learned; always type up stuff as you go, instead of waiting.

* * *

The moment she set foot into the Berry house, Santana Lopez felt like she was walking on cold corn pudding that was slowly warming up and starting to make her sink into it step by step.

The Berry parents hovered and ended up bringing her three separate glasses of water while Brittany explained what happened and while they discussed with Rachel about Santana staying there. Because apparently in the Berry household, Rachel didn't quite get an _equal_ say, but she was spoken with and her opinions considered about household events.

Which made a lot of sense if you knew Rachel Berry at all.

Santana's parents, on the other hand, barely saw -let alone _talked_ , to Santana. And she had no idea when the garbage collection was or how much they spent in electricity, let alone things like getting to voice her thoughts about someone staying with them to painting the house or whatever.

Rachel probably had a binder filled with all that crap, right down to some samples of house paint for reference if needed.

She already kinda hated Rachel, because she was mixed up with the Santana she'd been but listening to Rachel and her dads talk and discuss things like loving caring people -no name calling, no arguing, no yelling, kinda made her, the her she was and always had been, hate Rachel a little for real.

Eventually Brittany left, and Santana was tired of being the third wheel, and at her request was shown a _very_ beige guest bedroom.

It was late. Kinda. She didn't want to think or do anything, so she took a long, hot shower, relishing it, then meandered down to the kitchen awkwardly to rummage through the fridge for something to eat but found herself staring at the fridge's contents instead. There were too many choices. And fruit. _Fresh_ fruit. She couldn't decide what to have.

"Santana, are you hungry?" Hiram's voice broke her out of her reverie.

"Um. Yeah. Sorry." She finally said after too long, turning to look at him, her wet hair slick against her neck. She hadn't bothered to blow dry it, because it didn't occur to her that you know, she _could_ now if she wanted to. She was so used to letting it be in its natural state at this point she wasn't even sure if she'd really be able to do any of her old hair routines. Routines that seemed kinda stupid now, considering how much time she had spent straightening her hair.

Whatever, she'd think about it tomorrow.

"Don't be sorry," Hiram gently moved her to the side of the kitchen, "We should have known you may like dinner. There's an excellent tomato soup Rachel made with tomatoes' grown at her grandmother's -would you like some with a grilled cheese?"

"Yes please." She leaned against the counters, watching Hiram bustle around the kitchen, making gentle and pleasant conversation that only required minimal effort on Santana's part to reply to.

The way he moved reminded her a lot of Rachel. Which wasn't, like, a surprise or anything but maybe it kinda was.

She didn't have much interaction with Rachel's dads before the world became Zombieland. They hadn't come to many of the Glee club's shows, but then again no one's parents did so that wasn't unusual. And if they had come, it's not like Santana would have went out of her way to talk to them or anything. She probably would have either avoided them entirely or made some cruel comment about them to Rachel, just soft enough that Rachel wouldn't be sure if she heard Santana correctly or not.

She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to think about that. Or anything.

Later, she helped Hiram clean up the kitchen -he'd stayed with her while she ate, talking to her about the upcoming anniversary trip he and LeRoy would be going on for Valentine's day. Afterwards, she had went back to the guest room and burrowed into the blankets.

She missed sleeping with Brittany, with Lord Tubbington curled up by her pillow.

Tiffany wedged in between her and Brittany, the sounds of everyone breathing around them. Her arm around Nicholas's box, anxious that whoever's turn it was to drive the bus would make a turn to fast or something that would send the infant flying.

She swallowed hard and pushed that thought aside.

Tiffany was alive. Nicholas was not on the radar, and maybe there was something they could do to keep his mom alive this time. Maybe they could send in a tip to the FBI sooner or something.

And when they did have a baby again, he or should would grow up. She wouldn't out live her kid again. _Never again._

Eventually she gave up trying to sleep -it was still early anyway, and pulled her lap top out of her bag.

She didn't remember the internet being this slow.

24 hours ago, the internet had felt like some magical thing that instantly gave her access to everything she could ever want. Maybe it was just because she had been so deprived from it and had to resort to looking through books and finding maps like a medieval peasant, but she was pretty sure it had been _faster_ than this.

At least the Berry's didn't still have dial up like some places in Lima.

Like her Abuela did.

But she wasn't thinking about her Abuela, or the rest of her family. They were dead to her before, and now they were again and that was _that._ She wasn't going to cry about it.

Crying was pointless.

Instead, she was busy browsing the world wide web at a snail's pace, ordering things with her credit cards while she still could, and half listening to a rerun of That 70's Show.

Red & Kitty were basically everything she wanted to be when she was a parent.

On a hunch she left the guest room and meandered to Rachel's room to see if the internet was a little faster. It was. Of _course_ it was.

She grabbed the bedding from the guest room and hunkered down on Rachel's bed. Which is where Rachel found her later, curled up in all the bedding, nestled in a pile of pillows with some of Rachel's stuffed animals she'd found shoved under the bed in a box keeping her company as she wandered around the internet on her laptop.

There had only been three stuffed animals in the box, but easily a dozen porcelain dolls of various sizes. Rachel _would_ be a child who had porcelain dolls she played with. Santana had four -they were still in her closet. Always kinda creeped her out, so she didn't play with them much and there was one that she wasn't allowed to play with at all because it was an expensive collector's item.

"You are welcome to stay with us," Rachel said as she entered the room. Santana tried not to be annoyed that Rachel didn't seem to care Santana was on her bed. She cuddled the biggest stuffed animal closer -a plain brown teddy bear that was missing an eye and had one of its arms held together with what Santana was pretty sure was dried hot glue and glanced at Rachel out of the corner of her eye.

Rachel looked a _little_ annoyed kinda.

Good.

"And Daddy and Papa are going to speak to your parents tomorrow either at lunch time or after work."

Santana shrugged, "Good luck. Dad works at one of the hospitals in Columbus for the next...I dunno, three days or something?"

"Your mother then?"

"Her job is in Columbus too. She's a public defender."

"Do they simply commute?"

"No. They have a condo. A condo I don't have a bedroom at, and they've never taken me with them. Didn't you notice you saw dad like, once and mom maybe three times when you came over with Brittany?"

"Why live in Lima?"

Santana shrugged, "Didn't want to be away from the family probably," she finally looked at Rachel, "And you know, if we had moved then they'd have to take care of me instead of sending me to Abuela's or one of my Tia's. Or now that I'm older, giving me credit cards and paying one of them to get groceries and make sure the house is clean."

"I do not understand," Rachel looked like a confused puppy who thought you threw the ball, but then saw it in your hand.

"Yeah, I bet," Santana snorted, "Your parents love you. They wanted you. They'd die for you."

"They _did,"_ Rachel said softly.

Santana nodded, "Yeah, they did. If mine had been in Columbus instead of Lima I doubt they would have come back to Lima for _me_ alone. They love me, but not as much as they love each other. Lucky for me when mom went behind dad's back to get an abortion, Abuela found out before her appointment huh?"

"That's terrible," Rachel sat on the bed, "How would you even know that had happened?"

"Because Abuela told me. I found out about the vasectomy from a drunk Tia though. Bet they're both wishing dad had gotten it before mom got pregnant."

Rachel shook her head, "I am sure they will come around. Your mom made us food and brought us to try outs -a parent who did not care would not have bothered," She pursued her lips, clearly trying to wrap her head around not being the center of her parent's world, and finally said, "Do you know exactly when your father is back in Lima?"

Santana nodded at the door, "In my backpack in my planner; I've got their schedule for the month." Coach Sylvester insisted every Cheerio have -and use, a planner.

Rachel nodded. The other girl looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself. Finally, Rachel left. Probably to go make a dozen lists with her dads and plan five years in the future.

Santana swallowed hard and shoved her laptop away. She grabbed the beat-up teddy bear and brought it close.

She was safe. Brittany was safe. They were all safe and alive.

They had a second chance at getting this right.

Tiffany wasn't going to die.

Santana was going to keep her vow to Tiffany and be _better_ even though this Tiffany wasn't the same...she wouldn't be, because Santana was going to make sure she didn't go through any of the crap that Tiffany eventually did.

She sniffled again and rubbed the worn-down gloss on the bear's one eye.

She wasn't going to cry.

"Santana?" Rachel called in warning, then stepped into the room, holding Santana's backpack.

"I can fix this bear," Santana shrugged and wiped at her eyes.

Crying was weak. She wasn't weak.

"That's Bearbra. Dr. Bearbra Barbra Streisand," Rachel set Santana's backpack down next to the bed, then crawled in under the covers on the opposite side from Santana, "And she's been under my bed since I started 8th grade. I cried about leaving her there after we fled the house and my dads had died. She would have been a great comfort…although I am sure I would have been mocked about her had I had her."

Santana nodded, "Oh yeah, I would have been relentless about it."

"I think she has character with her missing eye, but it would be nice for her arm to be properly repaired." Rachel wiggled in the covers and grabbed one of the books stacked on her nightstand.

Santana said softly, "It's funny how much we love things so much, then one day they get shoved under our bed in a box and are forgotten about."

"Santana, all is not lost-"

Santana put her hand up, interrupting Rachel.

Before the world ended, she'd been so afraid that Brittany hadn't loved her like she loved Brittany. And that people would treat her like...well, like they treated Kurt, even before he'd officially came out. She was Santana fucking Lopez so people would have been scared to treat her like that to her _face_...but she hadn't wanted to know that they'd be talking about her, behind her back.

"No Rachel. No. I made my choice. I've loved Brittany since we first met -I didn't realize it, we were so little, but I had never felt like that around anyone. Ever. I remember those first few months after we met talking to my Tia Awilda about Brittany, and how we'd grow up and live together and have a lot of cats and babies. She let me talk. I tried talking about Brittany and our future to my Abuela, and she told me to shut up. I did. But now I won't. I _can't_. I've been planning our future for years." Santana let out a half sob, and angrily wiped at her eyes, "A future that got derailed by the apocalypse and my fear. _But now we have a second chance, and I'm not going to waste it by being quiet about who I am!_ " She finished in a hiss.

Rachel nodded, "I understand. I will, of course, be by your side no matter what happens at school."

Santana snorted, "Who gives a fuck about high school Rachel? It doesn't matter. Now come over here," she grabbed her laptop, "And help me spend money before the cards are canceled."

"Language Santana," Rachel muttered, she shifted to Santana's side of the bed, still holding her book.

 **[[[** Rachel mentions getting something for Sam's sister's -then realizes Santana doesn't know about how Sam changed things and tells her. Santana's sad to hear about Stevie, and worried about Sam having twice the siblings to worry about. **]]]**

* * *

 _Her knee felt like it was on fire; when she stretched out her leg gingerly a sharp pain went through her body. She groped for her gun, finding it in the near dark finally. She had a gun. Somewhere was her baseball bat, too. The leather of her jacket -Mack's jacket, it'll always be Mack's jacket, creaked as she fumbled her way to standing up, her body aching and her knee on fire as she practically crawled her way up the wall until she was leaning against it._

 _She needed to find some light, and get the hell out of here, find the others -find Brittany, and make sure she was okay. And -she took a deep breath, as she realized she didn't remember how she got here, how she got hurt._

 _Frowning, she started hopping along the wall, unwilling to unbend her knee and limp along with it, even though she looked ridiculous and was going to be slow as hell and easy to put off balance._

 _Holding her gun, still unable to see well, Santana crept along the wall for an eternity; in pain and annoyed that she couldn't see much -her eyes weren't adjusting to the muted light, and every time she tried to open them wider she was forced to slam them shut for a second, over come with too much light. It didn't make sense, but Santana didn't have the energy to worry about why._

 _She had to find the others. What if Sarah was alone like she was? She was just a kid._

 _She groped along the wall, moving forward hop by hop, for hours, until she finally heard something other than the sound of her labored breathing or muttered cursing; someone screaming._

 _Quinn, it sounded like Quinn._

 _Frantic, she opened her eyes wide, ignoring the blaring pain and resulting eye watering._

 _She looked around, and before she was forced to shut her eyes she saw that across the room from her was a hallway. She hopped across as fast as she could, and went down the hallway._

 _She could still hear Quinn._

 _The light gradually got brighter she as hopped towards the sound of screaming, and soon she could see again._

 _She realized that she was in the space ship. She clutched the gun tighter, and tried not to panic. Worry about getting out later, right now she needed to help Quinn._

 _At the end of the hall Quinn was fending off zombies with a towel rod, still screaming._

 _"Quinn shut up!"_

 _Quinn snapped her mouth shut and stared incredulously at Santana, frozen for a second. And that was all it took for one of the zombies to bite down on Quinn's wrist._

 _Santana shot it, and then the other one. The gunfire sounded muted, underwater and far away._

 _"You'll be okay," Santana said to Quinn, mangling her Spanish and English, "You're immune. You'll be okay."_

 _Quinn nodded, then burst into tears, holding her bitten wrist against her side._

 _"We let them die."_

 _"No, everyone's okay. We just have to find them then get off this ship."_

 _Quinn shook her head, the motion sending her regulation Cheerio pony tail bobbing. "But they're dead." She pointed with the towel rod at the corpses._

 _And Santana realized that the zombies Quinn had been fighting off were a tall blonde and a short brunette._

 _Brittany and Rachel._

 _She swallowed hard._

 _"They died. And we're what's left." Quinn dropped the towel rod, and used her now free hand to pull the hair elastic from her hair setting it free. She flung the elastic away, and stared hard at Santana through tear filled eyes. "We can stay here and die in this ship with them. Or we fight our way out? I don't care either way, you decide."_

 _"No, Quinn. You -you're. You need to-"_

 _Quinn shrugged, and slid down the wall. "Then I guess we stay here and die with them if you make me decide."_

 _Santana opened her mouth to say something, but her teeth fell out._

 _Quinn smiled up at her, and said something. Santana couldn't hear her, couldn't hear anything even as Quinn kept talking, and Santana was torn between picking up her teeth and trying to hear what Quinn was saying._

Santana woke up slowly, unsettled and with tears in her eyes. Wiping them away, gritting her teeth (in part to remember they were still there), she sat up and grabbed a handful of blankets, wrapping herself up in them.

It was just a stupid dream, it didn't mean anything except maybe Berry had been right about not being used to sleeping alone.

She glared at the clock; it was almost time to wake up anyway so whatever.

They had early morning Cheerio practice at 5:30 before school today.

Santana took a hot shower because she could, brushed her teeth, and tossed her wet hair into a pony. She was putting on a bit of makeup -also because she could and wanted too, when Rachel knocked softly, and at Santana's grunt opened the door to lean in the doorway.

"You do not have to go to school today, if you do not want to. " Rachel said softly.

"I'm going to school," Santana paused to finish putting on the last layer of mascara, because it was basically impossible to put it on while talking without poking yourself in the eye, "Where I'm breaking up with Puck. I'm going to see if I can switch out of my AP classes. Then the three of us are going to the archery range to practice."

"It will likely be a difficult adjustment, Santana. You are not still used to-"

Santana slammed the cap onto the lid loudly, and finally looked at Rachel as she twisted the cap closed.

She'd been avoiding it because it was weird as hell to see Rachel in a Cheerio uniform. Rachel hadn't bother blow drying her hair yet. Rachel wasn't wearing much makeup either -just a touch of mascara and lip gloss. Coach made them practice on these early mornings in uniform, which she said gave them an edge over the teams that didn't. They wore normal exercise stuff during the after school practices, though, thank goodness.

"We're skipping school after lunch." Santana shook her head and rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror. "Because we need to be like, archery masters. Frankly I can't believe how long you have been back, and you don't even have a place figured out for us to live. Or where Sebastian was. If I had come back when you did I would have a castle built by now. With a spot for you in the dungeon."

Rachel leaned against the door frame, and crossed her arms over her chest, "Do you want to talk about it Santana?"

"Talk about your lack of boobs?" Santana adjusted her skirt, and didn't look at Rachel.

"Santana."

"Talk about your hair's Cousin It vibe?" She bent down to retie her sneaker.

" _Santana_ ," Rachel practically stomped her foot, and Santana stood up, and just stared at her.

"I don't want to talk about it. Okay? There's nothing to talk about. Yesterday at this time I was getting ready to blow up an alien space ship. Most of my family was dead, and I was probably going to lose the rest, but hey, at least we would have saved the world, right? Then, you know, we didn't. We died, and now we're here. They're alive, but they don't want me, so whatever. At least this time I didn't have to hide in a bathroom from their zombified corpses, right?" Santana rolled her eyes, "Can we please go eat already."

"Papa will have our shakes ready." They walked into and through the hall together, and before they started down the stairs Rachel put a light hand on Santana's arm, "If you need a moment to yourself or are overwhelmed, do not hesitate in telling me."

Santana nodded, then side by side they walked down the stairs.

LeRoy Berry was a stone cold fox. Santana's days of having sex with men in a desperate way to prove to herself she wasn't gay were long gone, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the view.

"Does Hiram have a huge," Santana gestured lewdly at her crotch," Is that how he snagged LeRoy?"

Rachel didn't even bother to glare at her. "If you really wish to know and are not saying so just to mess with me, we can ask them. They are very open to questions and will answer them in an age appropriate way. I was dreadfully upset at three to find out I would not grow a penis." Rachel gave Santana a look, clearly expecting her to raise to the bait.

Santana just shrugged, and finally they were downstairs.

* * *

It's barely 5 am, and all Santana is craving is coffee.

Instead, what greats her is a protein shake -the kind Coach Sue insists on before early morning workouts because it won't make anyone sick or anything and it'll boost muscle building or some weird crap like that. LeRoy greets her with a yawn, and an apology for not being a chatty morning person -then warns her Hiram is. They apparently switch off who gets up early to make Rachel -and now Santana, but she's trying not to think about that, breakfast and see her off to school.

She yawned back -they are contagious, and mutters "So's Rachel." Rachel had went to go find a brush and hair ties.

"Indeed. On Hiram's days, Mrs. Grant will be picking you two up so you'll need to be ready, including breakfast, by 5:15."

Santana nodded, "Jade's mom is nice." Santana wasn't used to making pure small talk with adults. It was weird.

"Oh yes, she is. Although I confess, she's baffled why Jade refuses to be called 'Anne' -it's a lovely name."

"Didn't Wendy name her after 'Anne of Green Gables'," Rachel asked with a yawn of her own, waving a hairbrush at LeRoy as she walked into the kitchen. Santana hated that she felt better with Rachel back near her -and resolved to herself to never, ever, tell the hobbit that.

"Indeed. She and her husband thought it was neat that both Wendy and Anne would be named after beloved book characters." LeRoy took the brush from Rachel and started braiding Rachel's hair into a french braid. Rachel gave Santana a nod -having learned by now Santana did not appreciate much morning chitchat, and was _finally_ going to be quiet, and took focused mechanical sips of her own protein drink as she leafed through some boring looking book.

Santana took a deep breath, and let it out slowly then started sipping her own drink after a glance at the clock.

It still tasted gross, and it certainly wasn't anything Santana had really missed from before, not even when they were down to oatmeal for basically every meal...well, it did have much needed calories and protein, so she wouldn't have turned her nose up during the apocalypse at it, but still. _Gross._

She stood up, and walked around looking around the Berry kitchen, finally coming to rest to look at the photographs attached to the refrigerator with boring basic magnets. Lots of Cheerios, lots of Brittany especially (no surprise), one of Sam and his siblings. She swallowed back the thought of Stevie and moved on -there was one of Mercedes and Rachel and a sour looking black woman she vaguely knew was Rachel's great grandmother -all three of them dressed in nice church clothes.

Mercedes was apparently as fat as ever. She bit back a snort, almost choking on her protein drink. Mercedes and Kurt joining the Cheerios was a joke Coach Sue pushed too far. Coach wanted to annoy Mr. Schuester -and it _worked_. They hadn't even used Mercedes and Kurt for real competitions, just the vanity pay to play ones Coach liked to do to give them some competition practice and extra trophies. The real competitions had strict rules that absolutely didn't allow for live singers. Let alone live singers who couldn't do anything but sing and sway. Kurt wasn't that bad -with a lot more training he maybe could have gotten on the team in like 7 years. Mercedes was terrible at everything though, and had a worse attitude.

There was a lot of resentment towards both Kurt & Mercedes, but especially Mercedes. Being a Cheerio was a privilege, and it took hard work & dedication. They weren't as bad to her as the others until Mercedes asked how they stayed thin. The hours and hours of exercise they did at practice that Mercedes didn't have to do (or even _show up_ for half the time) should have been a _huge_ clue.

So yeah, Santana & Brittany messed with her a little bit. All the Cheerios had.

Santana spooned the last spoonful of the protein shake in her mouth and walked away from the fridge to the sink. Whatever. None of that mattered and hadn't happened. Maybe she'd do things differently this time. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she'd try to tell Mercedes that Coach Sue's order of losing ten pounds in a week wasn't that difficult if Mercedes ate right and exercised like the rest of them and listened to the other Cheerio's when they tried to help instead of dismissing them like she had the first time.

But honestly, hopefully, Coach wouldn't feel the need to mess with Mr. Schuester this time, 'cause that all got old really quick.

Santana scribbled a mental post it note to talk to Rachel about it, and went to go put on her shoes.

The Berry household didn't allow shoes on the carpet. Weird.

* * *

LeRoy informed them as they drove to go pick up Jade that they were going to take the day off of work and speak to her parents in Columbus today. Her parents probably wouldn't have taken any time off to burn anything she left at the house, so they should be there, driving last night or more likely this morning. The Berry's were also meeting with one of Estella's mother's whose side project was working to get laws passed to close down and stop conversion therapies for gay and lesbian youth on top of a friend they had who ran a homeless LGBT youth shelter. Both women would be, apparently, full of help and resources.

Santana didn't care.

She _didn't._

Rachel couldn't understand, though. And definitely LeRoy & Hiram wouldn't. Her family _was_ dead. Whatever _, still_ dead to her now.

Worse came to worse, she'd live in Brittany's van, hoarding guns while she waited for the end of the world.

Practice sucked, mostly because she felt a little guilty for dismissing basically everyone there as Coach Sue's problem when the world ended. She'd been focused on Brittany and Tiffany, not really taking things seriously and then after what happened she couldn't let herself think about anyone who wasn't there with them -until, well, now basically.

She made another mental post it note to talk to Rachel about the Cheerios.

She wasn't gonna let them all die or be conscripted into Coach Sylvester's post-apocalyptic warlord army this time or whatever ended up happening to them.

The actual exercise part though -she kinda liked. It made her feel strong and like she was doing something concrete to prepare for the end of the world.

Well, except for the running. That still really sucked.

 **[[[** There's both outright and subtle bullying (and mean girling) of Rachel, Jade, and Pauline, and to a lesser extent others at practice. Santana waits around after practice to talk to Quinn. Catches Quinn pinching her stomach fat, tells Quinn she's too skinny. Talks to Quinn after practice because Brittany wants her too (personally she finds the bullying hilarious because _clearly_ Rachel was affecting Quinn waaaaay more than before). Santana frames it as team building, for the good of the team blah blah. Quinn agrees, in part because Santana's honest and upfront about Brittana and that _really_ knocks Quinn off track. Santana also tells her about her parents disowning her -and wanting her to go to get "help" for being gay. Quinn asks quietly if Santana was sure it wouldn't work, and Santana says you can't change who you are no matter how much you pray. Then says if God didn't want her to love other women, he wouldn't have made her like that in the first place. The whole conversation is painfully awkward and tender. **]]]**

Instead of going to her first class, she made a beeline to talk to Ms. Pillsbury, about switching her two A.P. classes down to the normal ones. Ms. Pillsbury barely agreed after Santana fed her a couple of lies and some tears.

Santana had meant to break up with Puck today.

Breaking up with him was super high up on the list of crap to do. She had a cold look on her face, ready to -as nice as she could manage, break up with him.

When she saw him, he smiled that goofy smile of his at her, and instead she burst into tears. Confused, he pulled her into a hug whispering comforting words to her, hesitantly patting her on the back in little circles.

He wasn't _her_ Puck. Didn't catch mono from some MILF when they were on a semi-break and then give it to her. Never had any threesomes with him and Brittany, or any sex at all with him (but she had been _close_ -weird to think she was still a virgin and hadn't slept with that guy from Nevada during the summer a day after Brittany did, because she was jealous and confused and mad. Brittany hadn't, so she hadn't).

Hadn't tried to convince herself that she could see herself marrying him one day -or marrying him but still somehow living with Brittany.

He wasn't the Puck she'd gotten drunk with on the hella old whiskey she'd stolen from her Dad; they'd drove for six hours until Puck's truck was out of gas and they didn't have any money left because they figured out Santana's dad has canceled her card in a fit of parental responsibility -she could still remember how surprised she was he'd noticed what they'd done.

They ended up on the side of some nowhere road in Georgia, and drank the rest of the bottle then passed out in the truck bed curled up together. She'd woken up, then puked on him. It had been stupid and crazy and so many things could have gone wrong, the least of which was Puck crashing the truck, the most of which was alcohol poisoning, but they'd done it together, her and Puck.

She wasn't in love with him, hadn't ever been _in_ love with him, but eventually...yeah, she'd loved him. For what he represented, for the way he'd make her feel, for _him_.

They had dated over a year and if she hadn't woken up one day feeling brave and like maybe she could handle everyone knowing, they would have kept dating longer. Maybe even after Santana found out he'd knocked up Quinn they would have kept dating...hell, maybe if Santana and Puck had still been officially together when Quinn found out she was pregnant that would have totally changed things.

Who knows.

She'd been such a constant fixture at the Puckerman's house -Louise had hated her, but Santana had been sure she'd hated Puck a little bit too so hadn't even bothered trying to get Louise to like her.

Sarah though. Sarah had _loved_ Santana.

And in the end Santana had let her die, had failed Puck.

That thought made her cry harder on Puck's shoulder, and he pulled her close.

Eventually she cried herself out into hiccuping half sobs as the final bell rang.

"Do you wanna skip class babe?" She shook her head, and he awkwardly patted her back again.

"I'll walk her to class," Brittany said, "Lord Tubbington told me he dreamt you were going to go bald Puck."

"Um. Okay Brittany." Puck kissed Santana's forehead, "I'll see you later okay. Hey man!" Puck called after Karofsky, who was skulking through the hallway, and Puck jogged after him.

As soon as the boys were out of sight, Brittany gently grabbed Santana's hand and lead her to the girl's bathroom.

Brittany dropped Santana's hand as soon as the door closed, then turned and looked at her. "You didn't break up with him."

"No, I just." Santana wrapped her arms around herself and sighed.

"I don't want to do that thing where we love each other but you date boys." Brittany mirrored her position and frowned. "Especially now that we're married. Unless you think our marriage doesn't count anymore."

"We're married," Santana's voice hitched. "And it _counts._ "

"Then break up with Puck." Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana, "He's not _your_ Puck San. He's a different one. We can tell because he doesn't have a mohawk, he's still shorter then I am, and he's alive."

Santana let out a rueful laugh, "Not funny."

"But you still laughed."

"You're terrible."

Brittany cocked her head to the side, and smiled, "You love me anyway."

"Yeah." Santana grabbed Brittany's hand, sniffled and managed a smile. "We're alive, we're married."

"Yup. And we have 1094 days until we have a baby. You remember our promise, right?"

"I remember but, " Santana did some quick math in her head, "That'll put us like a month after the apocalypse starts. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to have one then Britts."

Brittany stepped back, making the hand dryer go off. Frowning, she stepped to the side and leaned against the tile wall.

They stood in silence until the dryer turned itself off.

"Britts." Only Brittany could make her voice sound so small and scared.

"Sanny. We _promised_ each other."

"I know, but that's so soon after the apocalypse and we don't even have a place to live yet. It's just-"

Santana couldn't stop looking at the window. She wrapped her arms around herself again and stared at it.

"We'll have one. It'll be a fortress, except without a moat but Lord Tubbington doubles as a dragon. Terri and Rachel are working on it."

It sounded like there was someone - _something_ , outside in the hallway. Heart beating fast, pounding in her ears so loud she couldn't even hear what Brittany was saying, Santana whipped around and turned the lock on the bathroom door, then headed towards the window.

It'll open.

It'll open, and she'll boost Brittany out of it. It'll be easy, because she's been training for Cheerios for like ever and the practices were hard and she's strong. She'll boost Brittany out the window, climb out, then they'll make a run for it. They can meet up with Rachel and the others later, after they go to Brittany's house and get Tiffany.

There was pounding on the bathroom door. She started twirling the reluctant knob to get the window open.

It wouldn't open.

"Santana?"

She turned at Brittany's low voice, to see Brittany standing with the door open. "It's okay Santana. Mrs. Row just wanted to know why the door was locked when she tried to come in, and I told her it was Cheerio business."

Santana let out a huff of air.

"Is it too late to leave?"

Brittany shook her head, "I think we should go have an early lunch at Breadstix, then meet Rachel when we're supposed too."

"Okay."

* * *

 **[[[** Brittany & Santana have a much muted date at Breadstix, where Brittany talks about Lincoln and Lord Tubbington and Tiffany most of the time; their conversation before Santana had her bathroom induced freak out painfully lays heavy and unresolved between them.

After walking back to school to collect Rachel, the three of them get a ride with Miss Mildred to the Berry home to drop off their school things and grab their archery things, then to the archery range. Miss Mildred tells them she found Sebastian and where he's been on the way back to the Berry house after a few hours of practice -they're kinda okay maybe even good at it so Santana's satisfied, even if they still need a ton of practice.

Santana doesn't pay attention to most of the conversation. She's mad at herself for freaking out, trying not to think about the fact Rachel's Dads were talking to her parents right now probably, and upset about the fact she and Brittany couldn't agree. Promises were promises, and Santana didn't like breaking them -but having a kid was something serious. She didn't even know if Brittany meant starting to have a kid at that point, or timing things out to give birth around then. The thought of Brittany heavily pregnant when the apocalypse starts makes Santana want to scream -if that's what Brittany meant, then Santana will be the one to get knocked up. Sam's baby, of course, if he agreed. Sam was her best friend after Brittany, and she missed him. Once upon a time Quinn was her best friend after Brittany, but junior year things changed, then Quinn went all skanky -then, well, the apocalypse happened. They'd patched things up but never really talked about it or anything close, not even when there was nothing else to do but talk -it never felt like the right time.

At the Berry house Santana calls Sam and talks to him. She is also horrified to hear about Sam's feelings regarding Stevie, even if she gets it (and relates it back to him in a comic book way.) He admits it feels weird to talk to her, she's felt like this imaginary friend or something. She says she's real. She asks him about Tina, and he sighs -like 70% of his memories from Before has faded from his mind, and he really only has strong feelings about certain things/people now. With Tina, he was hopeful and petrified. She says he wouldn't even recognize Tina now anyway because Brittany made her a Cheerio or will. He asks about Rachel being a Cheerio and Santana talks honestly about it -it's weird, but good for Rachel and you can see the difference in how Rachel walks confidently through the hallways at school.) Sam has to go; her talk with Sam helped. A lot.

Brittany has to go home, Miss Mildred takes her. Soon, LeRoy arrives home and asks Rachel to leave the room while they talk. Hiram is at work dealing with an unexpected issue. **]]]**

* * *

LeRoy sat next to her, and silently handed Santana a water bottle. Metal, reusable.

Of course.

She opened it without a word and took a drink.

"What'd they say?" She finally asked when it became clear that LeRoy wasn't going to speak.

"Well. It looks like you'll be staying with us for a while," he said slowly. Then he sighed. "I had a lot of hope that by now -stuff like this didn't happen. I remember being your age, and so scared about all the things I was hearing about men like me."

"Men who loved other men, or black men?"

He smiled. "Gay men. Although if I were to pick something to change with a wish, black men just because there's so many _more_ of us. I was so glad when Rachel was a girl..." he sighed again, "Hiram doesn't drive. You know that?"

She nodded, fiddling with the water bottle. "Yeah."

"Rachel was almost four when Hiram stopped driving. Gregory Antonia* was murdered for being gay, it made national headlines and we were both so _scared_. For months, Hiram couldn't go anywhere without me, and to be honest I didn't blame him, I felt safer when it was the two of us, the _three_ of us. We even considered moving, and some of our friends did. By the time he felt okay leaving the house without me -well, he'd always had some anxieties about driving, especially when Rachel came along, and we just decided to be a one car household. Hiram drove twice since then, both times it was an emergency, and the doctor had to up his nerve pill prescription..." LeRoy trailed off, took a deep breath, then continued, "Hiram's father disowned him, and Hiram's mother either agreed or didn't want to go against her husband. Regardless, the only family Hiram has had was his Aunt Leah, and a cousin in California. Leah died some years ago -I doubt Rachel even remembers her." LeRoy sighed, "I'm rambling, sorry. I'm trying to say, Santana, is that sometimes you can't rely on those you share DNA with, you have to build your own family."

Santana knew this. _Acutely_. Had known it somewhere deep inside herself since she first got told to shut up because she couldn't stop babbling about living with Brittany and having lots of cats and babies.

The apocalypse proved it. She hadn't let herself think about how things would have gone if everyone hadn't been dead at Abuela's house. If everyone was alive and well when her, Brittany, and Tiffany had arrived, and they'd all hunkered down to survive the apocalypse together.

"You're only 14, and that's a lot to hear and understand at your age, but," LeRoy sighed again, "You have _us_. Your parents signed a piece of paper giving us permission to take you to doctor's appointments and such, and we've arranged for them to continue to have you on your dad's health insurance as well as paying your athletic costs and providing some child support. Nothing is official through the courts or anything, and hopefully we won't require that step."

Santana shrugged, "I bet they're happy I'm gone. I-

 **[[[** Santana & LeRoy talk a bit more -then LeRoy calls Rachel in (and Santana's sure Rachel was listening at the door -glares at Rachel, and says when they stopped at the office the school called to say Rachel was absent. Rachel admits they skipped. LeRoy is disappointed, grounds them for a week for skipping school. Santana's unsettled out by this, as she's literally never been grounded before and has never had parents who cared enough to not let her run wild. Rachel, on the other hand, yells and gets grounded an extra week. After Rachel stomps up to her room -Santana does the math and realizes that Rachel's thirteen and it makes sense. She's all snarky and amused because she's more mature then Rachel when she knocks on Rachel's door. Rachel's all "we can't go practice archery or see Miss Henrietta when grounded! Apocalypse plans!" Santana points out that if Rachel hadn't yelled at LeRoy she wouldn't be grounded an extra week, and they talk about being younger. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** Time passes. Filled with Football games, a couple of Cheer competitions, practices, and apocalypse preparation as well as Santana joining the Berry family. Rachel's quite clearly jealous and thinks between the two are strained when it comes to anything at the Berry home. Miss Henrietta and Santana don't like each other -Miss Henrietta keeps calling Santana Mexican despite being corrected numerous times that Santana's Dominican Republican, and Miss Henrietta has some very old fashioned views about Mexicans. Santana and Miss Henrietta get along like oil & water. Santana puts up with it to an extant because the woman knows her stuff. Santana eventually forces herself to talk about it to Hiram, and Hiram consequently starts reducing the time Rachel's (and Santana) is allowed around Miss Henrietta -another reason thing are strained between Rachel & Santana. Outside of home life, they're fine when it comes to apocalypse training or cheerios or just hanging out with their friends.

Quinn's been _weird_ to Santana, more so then Brittany. Has effectively replaced them with two other Cheerios. While Quinn's cooled it with bullying Rachel, she's stepped it up for other random students. Santana figures its pent up frustration -but it's not funny any more, because it's ramped up bullying over all in the school, not just the Cheerios. Thinks about starting the Bully Whips again but ultimately decides not to because she's busy and it won't matter in a few years anyway.

Breaks up with Puck after a week of being back. Tells him she's a lesbian. He reacts by offering to have sex with her to help her make sure, then asks to watch her have sex with Brittany. They end on okay enough terms, and Santana's accepted that he's not _her_ Puck. Acknowledging this to herself, even if she doesn't like it, goes a long way towards helping her deal. She still can't stay in public bathrooms for very long, and has the occasional nightmare, but between talking to Sam  & Brittany she's fine enough.

Santana and Brittany have decided to talk about the baby promise after school's out for the summer.

Rachel and Sebastian have connected, Santana doesn't pay much attention to their phone conversations. Sebastian is coming back to the USA in the summer and going to Dalton Academy next school year for reasons Santana didn't ask about. She does like that Rachel seems back to normal when she's babbling about Sebastian to whoever will listen.

Santana switches to Quinn's catholic church which is decidedly more whiter then her previous one. She literally was given a second chance at life, if that's not enough to prove to her that God's real, what else would be? It's also full proof to her that God is a giant dickweed. LeRoy drops her off at Sunday mass before he and Rachel go pick up Miss Henrietta. Santana's started being a little more serious about Saint's. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** Santana goes out on a date with Brittany to Breadstix and a movie. It's weird to be out and about in the open, not pretending to herself that it wasn't less than it was. She's only officially came out to a few, but she's not really hiding it any more. She's not at the point where she's ready to show up to a school dance with Brittany. Not yet. Maybe for the Valentine's Dance though, she's pretty sure she'll be ready then.

She's nervous and scared but Brittany is amazing and comforts her in that Brittany way -pulling Lord Tubbington out of her backpack and plopping him on Santana's lap, saying he was jealous and hide there himself. LT is grumpy and clearly didn't do that; Brittany brings him on every date they go on to comfort Santana. The pair play fight over who's going to pay the bill -Brittany wins, because Santana's credit cards have been cut off and she's only got like $20 to her name. Brittany says she's glad she gets to pay instead of a boy who would watch them kiss later. Santana flushes with guilt. They go to their movie, Wall-E, and sit in the back. With LT purring on her lap and curled up with Brittany Santana's great. They talk after wards about it, 'cause Santana still feels icky weird and Brittany _knows_.

After their date -which ends without Santana getting lucky because she's going to miss her curfew, Santana's home. She and Rachel talk, skews into the Faberry vs Brittana talk. Santana gets _really_ _ **mean**_ because she's feeling vulnerable and also weird about being officially parented by Berrys:

Santana cocked her head to the side, and stared at Rachel, "Are you serious? You can't compare what me and Brittany have to you and Quinn. Even ignoring the fact that she's not here yet, don't pretend like what you two had in anyway compares to what we have."

Rachel glared, "We worked well together as a team, we neatly separated our duties and –"

"The only reason you two got together in the first place was because Quinn lost everything and the apocalypse pulled her out of the closet. Oh, and Finn was a jackass and wanted to stay in safety then risk his life to be with you. Can't forget that part."

"You aren't perfect Santana. And neither is your relationship with Brittany."

"Of 'couse I'm not, and it isn't. Anyone who says their relationship is perfect is delusional. But we're basically soul mates and that goes along way. We're best friends. Quinn barely talks to you now of course, but how much talking did you do when we were at the apartments? After Beth died?"

Rachel wrapped her arms around herself and looked away.

"Look, I'm not saying you two don't have potential. I am saying that you both have baggage -Quinn especially, and you've dated like two people -boys, your entire life. Plus Quinn. Go out on a date. Learn how to talk to people."

Rachel looked outraged. "Would you have been okay with Brittany dating while you weren't with us?"

Santana shrugged, "You and Quinn aren't exactly me and Brittany."

Rachel snapped, "And I know how to talk to people!"

"Yeah uhhuh. You also know how to be off-putting and bossy and you do that thing where you're like an excited puppy about to wet itself when people pay attention to you. Finn was the first boy to pay attention to you, so you decided you were in love with him."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I was. I think."

"Even though you didn't think he would make a good partner in the apocalypse -especially with a baby, you still decided to bang him in hopes he knocked you up."

Rachel looked up, affronted, "How did you know that? I only told _two_ people."

"Mack." Santana shrugged. "My point is, you two were barely official before we died, and you didn't have time to be a couple like Brittany and I. So get over yourself."

Rachel glared at her, " **]]]**

* * *

Santana was half assing her way through an essay when the door bell rang.

Rachel didn't look up from her own homework, just said, "It's your turn."

Rolling her eyes, Santana scooted away from the kitchen table and stomped towards the door. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone -just wanted to curl up in with a hot water bottle, an electric blanket and some chocolate while her baby maker cramped up in retaliation for not being pregnant, but that wasn't an option right now.

Maybe it was girl scouts with cookies -was it even girl scout season? The thought of some thin mints perked her up a bit, and she was almost smiling when she opened the door.

One of her uncles stood on the porch.

She didn't know what to say or do.

So she stood frozen, until she felt Rachel come from behind her.

Rachel -because she's _Rachel,_ scoots around Santana and stands in front of her. She puts her hands on her hips and fluffs up her feathers almost enough to be intimidating to a grown man -she's not quite tall enough to pull it off yet though, but bless her for trying, then stares at Santana's uncle in the eye.

He looks down at Rachel, then gives Santana a grin. _"I like this one."_

 _"You'd be the only person."_

"Are you okay Santana?" Rachel asked, not breaking eye contact with Santana's uncle.

"I dunno. Am I okay Uncle Rafael?" Santana crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame behind Rachel.

He shrugged. "I don't care if you're a dyke. It's messed up your parents kicked you out. You pretty much raised yourself anyway -your dad wouldn't listen to me when I told him a man doesn't treat his kid like they've treated you. Credit cards and relatives aren't a replacement for parents. I wouldn't dream of doing that to my kids."

"Yeah, well, you aren't my parents."

"Heard you were staying with some fag friends of one of the girls you cheer with." He looked around, "Nice place. Homey."

"Don't call them that. And don't say dyke either." Uncle Rafael gave her an easy smile that made her miss her dad for half a second, because it was his smile, rarely given to Santana, then nodded.

"Right." He didn't apologize, but Santana didn't expect him too in the first place.

"They gonna let you stay?"

"Yeah. It's been a month, if they weren't they'd have me leave by now huh?"

Uncle Rafael matched her crossed arms, "If you need to you can stay with us."

"Aunt Maya okay with that?"

"Are you kidding? She wanted me to come get you as soon as we found out."

Santana swallowed hard, "Why didn't you?"

"You're my favorite niece Santana." He looked down at Rachel, then back at Santana, "But I'm not going to pretend I understand why or how lesbianism works. Maya and I have basically been fighting about you for the last month. A lot of things came out; Mama treats Maya like shit because she's black and Mama's shitty to most of my kids. Maya told me to be a man and pick who I'm siding with, and here I am. You and Maya. "

"Am I really your favorite?" Santana grinned at him.

"Yeah. Don't tell little Alma, though, it'd break her heart."

Santana smiled. "I want a tattoo. And some fake IDs." Uncle Rafael was a tattoo artist and had been Santana's connection for fake IDs.

He laughed, "Guess you're aright if your spoiled ass is back to demanding things."

"Call it an early birthday present."

His smile faded at the mention of her birthday. "Yeah, yeah fine. Can I come in or we gonna hang out on the porch the whole time?

"Santana?" Rachel finally stopped glaring at Uncle Rafael to look at Santana.

"Uncle Rafael's wife is black, they have four kids -three of them take after Aunt Maya a lot."

"And Mama makes it known she thinks Maya cheated on me and they aren't mine."

"Which is stupid of her because Aunt Maya has been busy going to school on top of the kids, like she would have time to cheat even if she was the kinda person."

"So why do you let her treat your wife and children like that?" Rachel resumed glaring at Rafael.

"I'm not, not any more. Like I said, I picked Maya and Santana. Mama disowned me. Maya said she was getting tired of it and thinking about divorce -the stuff with Santana was the final straw."

"Well –"

"Look, kid, I don't want to go into it with you. Either of you. It's adult stuff. I do want to come in, make sure Santana's fine, and meet your parents."

 **[[[** Santana's Uncle Rafael; has four children Rosetta, Rafael JR, Grace, and Marian. The girls are named after notable black women who made significant contributions to music. Which Rachel notes, and mentions. Santana had no idea. Rachel and Rafael talk about it while they wait for Hiram & LeRoy to get home, Rachel unfreezes a bit around him and Santana works on her essay. Rafael helps Rachel with her homework a bit too.

Rafael is crass, decidedly not politically correct, and much too _macho_. Hiram and LeRoy are wary, but Rafael promises to watch his mouth after LeRoy gets stern with him, and cares about Santana so they're willing to give him a chance. The adults retire to talk away from Santana  & Rachel.

Rachel remarks that meeting him, she sees his influence in Santana. Santana admits that she was at his house a lot when she was younger, and begrudgingly can see their similarities. (It's obvious in conversations between them, to Rachel's amusement). Santana did spend a lot of time with Aunt Maya as well, until she was in the thick of school (she's a nurse midwife) and taking care of her kids and there just wasn't enough _time_ for Santana.

Rachel does that thing where she gets all soft and pitying for Santana, and Santana ends the conversation with a huff. Calls Sam, doesn't get him right away, ends up talking to Stephanie who babbles on about kindergarten while Sam finishes whatever he's doing. It's still really weird and sad to know that Stevie was poofed out of existence.

After the adults finish their talk and return, they seem alright, so Santana relaxes a bit. Rachel does too. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** A week passes; Santana's babysitting for her four cousin's to give Aunt Maya & Uncle Rafael a much needed date night (and ends up with a 5th cousin who wasn't born before as a result -before, Maya & Rafael had ended up divorcing as Maya really was getting tired of Rafael not standing up to his mother) when her Aunt Awilda stops by to drop off some hand me downs. She's the Aunt Santana is closest with, and there's some rarely shown pain from Santana when she sees Awilda. (Awilda is Santana's Aunt who's name Quinn can't remember in Chapter 2 of DGDS, that is the notable zombie while Quinn's fighting her way towards rescuing Santana & Brittany.)

Awilda is torn. She loves Santana. Clearly. But doesn't want to go against the rest of the family. They have a painful talk, ending with Santana calling Aunt Awilda out on her bullshit, because if Santana was actually her daughter Awilda would have stood up for her against Alma and the rest of the family, but despite Awilda claiming she loved Santana like she was Santana's mother, Awilda can't be bothered, so clearly Awilda is full of bullshit. Awilda leaves, clearly still thinking, in conflict and shortly afterwards Maya & Rafael return, Santana tells them what happened at Maya's urging (little kids mention it because they heard Santana yelling.)

(Maya is awesome) **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** More time passes; LeRoy and Hiram throw Santana a Quinceañera that's traditional to the Dominican Republic, and actually reminds her a lot of her first one in that sense. This one is _better_ though, even if Hiram and LeRoy couldn't quite get the food right. Sam and Sebastian are there, having flown in, arranged by Rachel. Santana teases her that Sebastian was wholly for Rachel's benefit, but clearly appreciates the gesture. Thinks are awkward for approximately three seconds with Sam, then fine. He's her escort, and they lead the dance -he mentions while they dance that he practiced with his sister's. After the formal dances are finishes, she dances with Brittany and parties and has a good time with her friends, fellow Cheerios and the family who matter. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** Quinn and Rachel dance. Rachel reflects on the planning it took to throw this party together last minute, and how it was worth it with how happy Santana was. Between her, Brittany, Maya, Awilda, LeRoy & Hiram it wasn't easy but it got done. Brittany remembered most of the things (and people) Santana had specifically picked out from the first one, so that helped a lot. Rachel reflects on how the last six weeks living with Santana has gone -ups and downs.

Rachel POV: Rachel could not help but look at Quinn. The other girl was standing alone in a corner, staring at Brittany and Santana as they danced together, arms wrapped around each other, swaying gently to the beat of the slow song. The drink in her hand looked like she had not sipped it at all -and Rachel remembered with a sudden clarity that Quinn did not like the taste of sparkling apple cider.

Brittany and Santana continued dancing; Rachel was not even sure they remembered there was other people in the room.

Rachel hesitated, then made her way to Quinn's corner, dodging around Cheerios and small children.

"Quinn, would you like to dance?"

Quinn pulled her gaze from Santana and Brittany and stared at Rachel.

Rachel's face flushed, and she added, "Um. With me? The next fast song?"

Quinn gave the tiniest of nods, then turned back to her aloof watching. Rachel wondered what Quinn was thinking about as she watched them. Happiness for her friends? Sadness? Loathing?

She made a mental note, as she went to pull Tiffany away from Oliver, both toddlers looking like they were about to start screaming, to ask Quinn one day after she returned.]]]

* * *

 **[[[** The party is winding down -Aunt Awilda talks to Santana, says she's right, gives Santana a meaningful present and they make up. After Awilda and Santana finish talking, Rachel asks if she's good. Santana says she is. Rachel remarks that she can see Awilda in Santana too. They playfully bicker about each other's personality influences with their respective adults.

They all clean up.

Sam has to go back home with a flight in the morning, but Sebastian is staying for a couple of days. **]]]**

* * *

Terri, Rachel, Sebastian are looking at real-estate as much as possible while Sebastian's in town. He has a trust fund and is more then willing to use it since it'll be a lot easier then how Terri & Rachel were planning on buying property in a few more months. Terri's uncomfortably pregnant, but surprisingly not as stressed out and grumpy as usual, because, when Rachel asks, she's glad they're doing something really concrete in finding property. Mentions the baby is a girl and that she's not sure what she's happier about that 2009 is bringing -the baby, or her graduating and not having to commute to Findley for school any more on top of working.

They look at several properties before finding _it_. Approximately three hours from Lima, it's 361 acres. The real estate agent mentions it's next to a high school that was meant to be used for two counties and built as such, but things ended up happening policies wise and the school was never used, and has been for sale for years because no one has any idea what to do with it.

They look at it. Two stories, brick, out buildings, and after a quick discussion, Sebastian is going to meet with his lawyer and accountant.

It'll be over 400 acres total between the raw property and the school's property. Miles of fencing and Rachel doesn't even want to begin to figure out how much it'll cost for what they decided on.

They meet before Sebastian has to leave to tell the others about the property, and throw around ideas about how to set it up, deciding that turning the classrooms into little apartments and other logistics. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** More time passes; The Berry's host Thanksgiving including Santana's family, Brittany's, a couple of Cheerios + their families and a few stray friends of the Berrys. It's chaos, it's Berry -there's singing, but nice and Santana kinda enjoys the singing.

During Winter Break, they watch a lot of tv and relax -Brittany's orders while she's on a ski trip for winter break. Santana quilts -she wants to make a beautiful quilt for her and Brittany's bed, and Brittany likewise has finished the blanket she was knitting for Tiffany and is already halfway done with the blanket she's knitting for her and Santana's bed. Rachel's 14th birthday -at her request, it's just the four of them having a nice dinner and cake.

Santana comes up with the SHILOH (Safe Haven in Lower Ohio) name after watching Sons of Anarchy and thinking 'SAM CROW' is cool. Sebastian officially owns Shiloh at this point. There's not much they can do yet until Brittany can legally drive in a few more months, since Terri's schedule doesn't lend itself very well to making the drive. Santana and Brittany have worked on the van enough it's finished. **]]]**

* * *

 **[[[** Santana celebrates Hanukkah with the Berry's. Awkwardly, and not quite sure she should be.

Brittany stops by with a tiny x-mas tree and presents.

Santana spends Christmas day with her Uncle & Aunt Maya -Aunt Awilda stops by with her husband and kids. Things are good -still tense when it comes to Rachel and Santana bonding with LeRoy & Hiram, but good. And Santana is bonding with Hiram & LeRoy, oddly enough, and she's surprised by it and how much she craves that parenting attention (even if she'll never, _ever_ admit it to anyone.) **]]]**

* * *

 **Other A/N:**

Ick. Please be nice if you review, showing the chapter like this is _painful_ -as always, signed in reviews get a preview of the next chapter.

Also, please remember that the story is in _limited_ 3rd person so we only know what the character knows, which is filtered through how they see the world. This story would be very different if we were only following, say, Terri. I almost wish she was one of the characters who's POV we see, because her POV compared to the girls would be a delightful contrast as she has maturity, perspective, and insights the girls lack at this point in time, as well as her own personality downsides and quirks.

We'll eventually see the girls really grow into women and gain that perspective.

(If you missed it when I answered this question on my tumblr (Gee13), this story will follow the group from now till the four main characters are in their thirties. I'm fully expecting this story to be a _lot_ longer than Dead Girls Don't Sing.)

*It felt incredibly disrespectful using the real name of the gay man who was murdered in October 1998 for being gay, in _fanfiction_ -even in the author's note.


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